More Than He Bargained For
by dart53
Summary: Can gorillas be trained? Can they even be tamed? Garrison will have to find a way if he's to turn these men into the team he envisioned.
1. Chapter 1

**More Than He Bargained For**

Sequel to Someone to Watch His Back this is also a behind the scenes look at the first mission. It contains big time spoilers for The Big Con. And because this time it's really important: _**Garrison's Gorillas is not mine. The premise and characters are the property of the writers and Production Company that originated the show, or whomever they sold the rights to **_(and I wish those guys would pony up and crank out some professionally mastered DVD's). All of the action in the 'scenes' is theirs, but everything happening 'behind the scenes' is a figment of my own imagination.

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Garrison followed Sergeant Major Gilbert Rawlins along the path that led up to the building. Rawlins turned to get his OK before he fitted the key in the lock. It took a moment for him to give it. Once that door opened he was committed, ..accountable, …in charge… Who was he kidding! He'd been in charge since he pitched the idea and they'd taken him up on it. No one else was crazy enough to believe something like this was going to work. But he knew it could… he 'd been there, he'd seen enough to know this little band of experts could help him get the job done,,, if they didn't kill him first.

When he pitched the idea for the group back before he'd been shipped off to North Africa he'd never envisioned himself as the leader. General Jackman had been right, you had to be careful what you wished for. He wished for a team that could get in and get information out of German safes, replace it with the information the Allies wanted them to have. He wished for a group that could trick the Germans into revealing their secrets or releasing their prisoners…. Well, he had it… and at least for now, he was responsible for it, the men that made it up, the people that were assigned to get those men ready for their new lives as under cover operators… Hell, right now he was responsible for the community where the brass had them headquartered. If anything happened to anyone it was going to be on his head, just because he'd thought up the idea… Sometimes he thought a little too much for his own good.

"Alright Sergeant, let's review the troops."

Gil stared at the Yank for a second before he turned back to the door. Review the troops indeed! From what he'd been told not one of them had any military experience. From what he imagined not one of them would have any discipline and none of them would respond to authority, at least not the way the military demanded. Swinging the door open he stepped aside and let the lieutenant through, motioning for two of the guards to step into the doorway behind him as he following his new CO in. The rest of the detail were on the alert, ready in case the 'specialists' made a break for it.

Craig looked at the men ranged around the room. If they'd been regular Army recruits they would have been on their feet the moment they heard the door open. If they'd been regular Army recruits he would have barked an order that brought them to attention… But they weren't Army recruits, they were convicts, wards of the Army for the time they found them useful. And despite what others in the special operations unit thought he didn't really care if they learned to follow regulations, he just needed them to learn enough to follow him, at least long enough so they wouldn't get themselves killed before they complete their mission. His eyes traveled from one to the other. Chief the one he'd picked for his scout, over the objections of just about everyone. Actor the group's con man, European born and multilingual, Goniff the cat burglar and pick pocket of the bunch, the safe cracker and explosives expert, Casino and…. Wheeler?

"What's a matter commissioner, don't like surprises?"

Garrison fixed a level gaze on Wheeler and stared until the man laughed and looked away. He hadn't picked Wheeler, he'd rejected him for his attitude and tendency towards using violence to get what he wanted. Reports indicated he'd killed more than once in prison but with the lack of witnesses willing to talk he was never convicted. Sure he could handle himself in a fight and he knew his way around almost every vehicle and engine in operation. They wouldn't have to teach him much about hand to hand or weapons, but he doubted the time saved there would be enough to teach him there were other ways to resolve his problems, that it would be enough time for him to develop a conscience.

"Where's Saint-Martin?" the lieutenant asked quietly.

"How should I know? I was all snug in my little cell and they come rappin' on the door and told me I was comin' over here. Gonna get a big chance to be part of your little band a Boy Scouts." Wheeler smirked at him from where he slouched on the sofa. "You want a health up date on that _**Frog **_you better ring up the warden."

First hurdle, they were all watching him, waiting to see what he'd do. "Never mind, Wheeler, you'll do."

Shoving off the sofa Wheeler took three strides across the small room to stand toe to toe with the guy in charge. "You didn't think so over there!" Usually when he got in a guy's face they'd take a step back, tense up. He was big enough he made almost everybody nervous. Not this guy,,, but he had back up. Wheeler cut a look at the guards, they'd tensed up alright, but that was OK, he'd heard they wouldn't be with them on this job.

"I had choices over there. I chose the best." Wheeler might know his way around an engine, but Gérald Saint-Martin had designed, built and raced his own cars all over Europe. He spoke four languages and had a personal knowledge of the areas they'd be working in. And he had something the others lacked, a desire to work for the Allies that wasn't based on the promised parole. He wanted to get into the fight to free his country and couldn't do it from behind bars in a federal prison. "I don't have that choice here and so, … you'll have to do." Garrison crossed his arms on his chest and continued to stare at Wheeler. He could feel the guards tense at his back but he didn't want to break eye contact, not now.

Goniff hunched his shoulders up and grinned down into his lap. He didn't like the loud mouth bully and was glad to see their new leader wasn't going to put up with him…'Course he did have those guards standin' right behind him. It was going to be different out on the job and the little man doubted the lieutenant would be the one to come out on top if there was a fight. Casino, now Casino'd have a real chance. He was tough and he'd been inside and knew the way to handle a bloke like Wheeler. The pick pocket slid off his perch and wandered over to lean against the wall, a little closer to the safecracker, a little further away from Wheeler.

Actor watched the two men face off. He knew a confrontation would come but he didn't think it would happen this quickly, before they could even get away from the airfield. And he didn't think Wheeler would be the first one to test the lieutenant, he thought it would be the safecracker, Casino. The clash was instructive though and he was glad to get a little insight into the man who would be leading them. So far he was impressed, the lieutenant hadn't raised his voice in reaction to Wheeler's belligerent tone. He'd kept his voice even and just stated the fact… Wheeler wasn't his first choice but he was willing to adapt to using him anyway. But from the anger that flashed in the man's eye their young leader may have just made his first mistake. Actor could believe Wheeler wasn't the first choice, he considered the man a braggart and a bully. It was amusing to see him assigned second class status when he thought so highly of himself, but it may have been wiser to keep that from the group.

Casino leaned in his corner and watched Wheeler… he didn't like the guy, he was an opinionated loudmouth, always complaining… Casino didn't like guys like that. He didn't give much notice to the Army guy, he wasn't gonna have much to do with him. He'd be all safe in his own barracks, probably backed up by guards all the time, but he was gonna to be sharin space with Wheeler, be one on one with him, and it never hurt to see how a guy handled himself. So Wheeler wasn't the best, wasn't the first choice?… Maybe he could use that little piece of information later. He shot a look at the Limey as he settled in near him… He was harmless, a follower, and it looked like he might be willing to line up with him… he could use that too.

Chief watched the group of men in the room. The con man hadn't moved from his seat, just stayed there studyin' the lieutenant and that wheel man. The officer was concentrating on him too, so were the guards. The English guy, Goniff, had moved over to stand with Casino… looked like he was settin' up an alliance already, choosin' who he'd back when the fight come, and it'd come. He turned his attention back to Wheeler. The guy was trouble, spoiling for a fight and convinced he was big enough, tough enough to come out on top… He probably was too, most a the time, but Chief wasn't worried about him, he was faster, his reflexes quicker, in a fight that lumbering loudmouth would go down in the first few moves. But the officer standing there, he was ready for him, balanced on his feet and relaxed, just waiting. That's the guy to worry about, he thought. If Wheeler wanted to be the one to try and get him out of the way, well, that was OK by him.

Wheeler snorted a laugh and turned away. He wasn't gonna get the guy to take a step back, not with the others watching and not with rifles at his back… there'd be another time.

"Alright." Garrison turned to Rawlins. "Sergeant Major load them on the trucks, let's get this show on the road." So much for greeting his new charges and that quick pep talk about the importance of the job they were about to do.

ggg

The men got to their feet and filed out past him between the guards Rawlins had set on either side of the path that led to the back of the truck. As soon as they'd loaded one of the guards climbed aboard and secured each man to the bench with a handcuff. No sense taking any chances. Two armed guards would ride in the back of the truck with the convicts, with another up in the cab with the driver, and a third riding with him and the Sergeant Major in the jeep. Another two armed men would lead the little convoy in a second jeep. At first he'd thought six armed guards a bit excessive, but with Wheeler in the crowd he was glad he'd let Rawlins talk him into it.

Their timing was perfect. The procession of vehicles was moving slowly along the road that ran past the pub and had come to a crawl as the driver down shifted to make the turn up the steeper road that led out to the estate… A gust of wind blew the back flap on the truck open just long enough for Goniff to catch sight of the pub. Garrison watched as the Englishman jabbed Casino in the ribs and pointed. The flap fell back in place before he could see the safecracker's reaction. Rawlins turned to him and frowned. Craig nodded his agreement. With Wheeler in the group their little bet was off. He didn't want a guy like that loose in the village, not until he was sure he could trust him… and that was going to take a very long time.

Twenty minutes later they were pulling through the gates and getting ready to turn their charges out into their new 'pen'. Garrison knew why prisons were called that, the men inside were treated like cattle, shuttled from place to place, surrounded by fences, sometimes prodded along through gates with electrically charged sticks. He didn't want the base to operate like that, and as soon as the men proved themselves it wouldn't, but they'd have to earn their privileges. For right now they'd be closely watched and tightly contained.

Swinging out of the jeep Garrison stepped over to the back of the truck and waited for the other guards to get in position. Rawlins had the chain they'd brought along and stood ready to attach each man's cuff to it as he climbed down out of the truck. They weren't going to like that, Craig thought as he signaled the guard to drop the tailgate of the truck… But they surprised him, accepting the set up as routine. They probably moved around the prison that way, or out to work assignments, he'd have to spend a little more time talking to Corporal Jergens, the man with the most prison experience and was glad Rawlins picked him to be part of the permanent operating staff out here. Sergeant Major Rawlins might not have personal experience with handling convicts but he had a good imagination and a tendency to pay attention to details. Craig found he was getting more and more grateful that the NCO had agreed to accept this assignment.

Garrison watched them as they arranged themselves in line, getting a feel for the ultimate pecking order. Though Goniff had been closest to the tailgate of the truck he'd hung back a little and let both Casino and Chief down first, turning his back on Wheeler. As they hooked up Wheeler gave the smaller man a shove that sent him stumbling forward into Casino. The guards stepped in immediately, lowering their rifles between the two men. Casino shoved the Englishman away from him but kept a hand on his shoulder to keep him on his feet as he shot a irritated stare at Wheeler. The other two, Actor and Chief just looked on, waiting to see what would happen.

"Alright Wheeler, knock it off!"

Garrison didn't wait for the man to respond, motioning the guards to start the line forward up into the house. He'd have to watch that. If Goniff was lining up with Casino and he was accepting the roll of protector it might not do to have either one of them close to Wheeler. Chief didn't seem threaten by the bully but he was at least thirty pounds lighter and would be hampered by the chain if it came to a fight. Actor was bigger than all of them. If he had to position them he'd put Wheeler dead last with Actor between him and the rest and Chief leading them off. Craig shook his head and wondered how long they'd have to worry over that sort of thing, He had to get them to work together and depend on each other and he didn't have much time. Well, the security system he and Rawlins had worked out might help with that.

They took them through the entrance and right upstairs to the large room they'd chosen for a barracks. It was set up dormitory style with cots and chairs placed at regular intervals around the room. Each man would have some space of his own, more than the small cells he'd taken them out of, but there would be no privacy, no walls to separate them.

"Unhook them Sergeant, let them pick their own spots." Again he stood back and watched, waiting to see how they'd arrange themselves around the room.

The second story man of the bunch gave Casino a nudge and started up towards the fireplace, standing back to let the safecracker decide which side of the hearth he wanted for himself. When he moved to the right Goniff cheerfully took the spot on the left and just as cheerfully switched when Casino pulled him off that cot and took it for himself.

Actor headed for the side of the room with the bookcase and comfortable leather chair, Chief took the one over by the window… That left the other end of the room all to Wheeler. Garrison watched him as he stood in the middle of the space eyeing each of the other men, trying to decide if he could displace them from their chosen territory. When he turned and saw that he was being observed he narrowed his eyes and let them skip over the guards who still stood in the doorway to rest on Garrison. After another staring match he turned and headed for the last cot at the end of the room.

"Sergeant, secure the men." Now we'll see…

Rawlins stepped out of the room for a moment and came back with another set of chains and leg irons that grated along in the metal track that was secured to the floor. Two more guards followed him into the room. He was expecting some resistance too and wasn't going to put up with any nonsense from his new charges. He headed for the con man, Actor, first figuring he'd be the least likely to offer physical opposition.

All of the men were on their feet now, staring at the man who was in charge of them.

"Whadda ya mean by this, commissioner?!" Wheeler took a step back towards Garrison only to be stopped by one of the guards leveling his rifle at him. "Nobody said nuthin' about livin' in leg irons."

"You won't have to live in them Wheeler. We'll let you off when you go out for training. And we'll dispense with them in here… just as soon as you all prove I can trust you."

"Jeeze, I thought this was s'pose to be a better deal than the joint. At least once the damn door slammed shut on the cell you could move around as much as you wanted." Casino shot a look at the lieutenant. "So what's a guy gotta do to get to the john, Lieutenant, raise his hand and say please?"

Garrison didn't quite keep the smile from his face as he watched Rawlins hook Casino up and then start on Goniff, at least that was a practical concern. "You can get to the john Casino." He directed their attention to the track on the floor with a wave of his hand. "In fact you'll be able to get to most of the rooms on this floor." There was a slide attached to the end of the chain that held them and it ran in a slot in the track. They'd laid it out so there were by passes along the track, places where the men could change position, but only if they cooperated by getting out of each others' way. Off shoots of the main track ran along each of the cots. Craig smiled again, Rawlins interest in model trains had come in handy during the layout.

"I object, Lieutenant Garrison." Actor kept his voice reasonable and calm, though he wasn't feeling either of those emotions right now. He hated being confined, tethered to a certain spot, and while he'd managed to resign himself to living in a cell he had no desire to be permanently attached to the floor. "Have you considered how we might escape the building in case of a fire or some other emergency?"

"There's a fire suppression system in the building, Actor." Garrison explained, just as reasonably, "In case of any other type of emergency I'll come and get you… You'll just have to trust me."

"Fat chance! I figure you'll be leadin' the pack over the hill at the first sign a trouble!"

Wheeler again, at his most charming. "Then I guess you'll just have to hope I have more guts than that, Wheeler."

The guards had stayed near Garrison by the door as Rawlins moved around the room and secured the men, but when he approached Wheeler one of them stepped up behind the Sergeant Major to back him up. They've identified the biggest threat, Craig thought, and they aren't going to give him any chance to cause trouble. He approved their instincts. Gil had an eye for men and had chosen a good group. "You have an hour to relax and sort out your gear. Your meal will be brought up to you and as soon as you finish we'll get started."

ggg

"Blimey! He ain't a very trusting sort is he?" Goniff rattled the chain attached to his ankle and shot a look across at Casino. "Hey! How'r we s'pose to get our pants off wearin' these?"

Casino snorted a laugh. "How do I know. Maybe we'll just have ta let 'em slide down over the damn chain. Sorta like fireman pushin' 'em down over their boots."

"I hardly think they'll make us use the same clothing for the duration of our stay here." Actor didn't even bother looking up from the book he'd chosen from the shelf by his chair. "They will have to let us bathe and change clothes, but there will probably be a guard."

"Just like the joint. Always somebody standin' around with a gun."

"Did you expect anything different Wheeler? Surely you didn't assume the lieutenant would simply accept a promise from you not to disobey his rules and just let you roam about at will." Actor's voice dripped with scorn.

"Nah! Wheeler didn't expect nothin' like that! He expected a key to the top floor a the best hotel in London. Didn't ya Wheeler?" Casino smirked at the man at the other end of the room and laughed when he was brought up short by the chain on his ankle when he tried to cross the space between them.

Stepping back Wheeler gave the chain that held him a jerk. "I thought you was 'spose to be able to get through any lock, big man. How come we're still wearin' these damn things? If you ain't smart enough to get us outta these what good are you gonna be over there?!"

Casino leaned back on the cot and put his hands behind his head. He didn't like being tethered anymore than the rest of them but he wasn't about to show them his discomfort. "And if you can't see any better than that, what good are you gonna be to us over there? We'll probably end up in a ditch with you drivin'. Since you'r too stupid to notice for your self, big shot, that key they got for these things is extra long… That's 'cause the lock's at the bottom of a cylinder and that's gonna protect it from a pick…..And don't go thinkin' we can lift the tracks,…. They're bolted down. That little lesson was free, Wheeler, but the next one's gonna cost ya."

Wheeler's eyes ran along the track on the floor and he started off around the room only to be stopped by the youngest member of the group. "Get outta my way, Indian." He wasn't ready to take the kid on, not yet, but to get to the loud mouth across the room he would. He was big enough he figured he could pull him right outta the shackle, strip his foot off if he had to.

"Wheeler!"

All of them turned to stare at their new warden. None of them had heard the door open.

"Alright, if you gentlemen have this much extra energy we'll put it to good use. We can hold off on lunch for now and get right to the training session." Garrison flipped a switch on the intercom attached to the wall near the door. "Sergeant Major Rawlins."

"Sir?"

"Change of plans Sergeant, we'll be heading out on the obstacle course now. Have the guards come up and see to it the men get ready."

"Yes sir."

"Thanks a lot, mate. I'm famished too… Hey, Lieutenant, you can't expect a bloke to work on an empty stomach!" Goniff had a smile all ready for the ruddy screw, but he didn't need to bother the lieutenant had already turned his back on 'em and was headed off down the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

ggg

"So what am I s'pose to do again?"

"Just get over the wall, Goniff."

"There ain't no ropes, 'r pipes to climb up. How m'I gonna do it, then?"

"Use your imagination. Just get over that wall." It seemed simple enough to Garrison, one man boosted another over who then reached back to pull the first man up… but these guys weren't ready to rely on each other yet. He could hardly blame them they'd only been on the grounds for forty eight hours. Alright, he thought, let's see how they do it.

Goniff studied the stub of a wall and the raised tower next to it. He scratched his head and took another look at the lieutenant before rolling his eyes and starting across the open yard. When the guards on the tower tensed up and pointed their rifles down in his direction he just grinned up at them and waved. Clambering up the corner of the tower he got a few feet above the wall and turned to stand on the crossbeam, calculating the distance in his head he leapt across and took a few running steps along the top of the wall until he got his balance. A few steps forward and back with his arms held out to his sides and he turned to bow to the others on the ground before dropping down on the opposite side. In a moment his hands could be seen on the top of the wall again, and then his head as he pulled himself up to sit astride the top.

"Come on Casino! I'll give ya a hand up, mate." Slapping the wall and then holding out his hand he encourage the safecracker to make the attempt.

Casino didn't wait, just took off at a run and made a jump for the wall. He knew the pick pocket'd be there to catch his hand. The Limey needed protection and he could provide it. It was in his best interest to help him and people always looked after their own interests first.

Both of them disappeared over the wall leaving the other three to figure it out for themselves. Garrison leaned back against the jeep. There's one pair, he thought, now what about the others.

Actor tapped Chief on the shoulder, "Come on, I'll boost you up and then you can help me over."

"Huh uh. S'gotta be the other way around." The younger man gave Actor a measuring glance. "You'r too heavy for me."

The pair approached the wall and was over without any trouble… that only left Wheeler. He waited for a moment but no one appeared at the top of the wall to offer him a hand. Stalking across to the base of the tower he started to haul himself up along the supports. When he reached the cross beam he turned but couldn't make himself jump.

"Alright, that's enough." Garrison motioned for the guards to bring the others back around the wall. "Wheeler get down from there. Now, let's do it again."

"Again!" Casino planted his fists on his hips and stared at him. "We already got over the damn thing once. Why do we have to do it again?"

"Not all of you got over Casino." Garrison turned to face the east coast thief as he moved up to confront him. "Wheeler didn't make it."

"Well that's just too bad for him, isn't it."

"No, it's too bad for all of you because we're staying right here until all of you get over that wall. You _are_ supposed to be a team, remember?" He didn't raise his voice, just crossed his arms and stared back waiting for them to decide. They'd been out on the course for three hours now and were tired and hungry. If they wanted a break they'd have to work together to get it.

Actor studied the group for a moment. It appeared the lieutenant could be just as stubborn as Casino and he didn't doubt the man would keep them out here all night if he had too to make his point. As uncomfortable as it was he preferred to spend the night in his bed inside rather than standing here. "Come on, let's get this over with." Starting back towards the wall he called over his shoulder. "Wheeler can go first but I'll need some help with him."

The others didn't make a move, not even Wheeler. Craig waited. Goniff finally broke away from the group and headed for the wall. Turning when he got there he laid a hand on his belly and shrugged back at the others. "Come on then you blokes, before I starve to death."

Wheeler was big, but he wasn't in very good shape and it took three of them to hoist him up so he could catch the top of the wall. When he swung over the top he dropped down on the other side without offering a hand to help anyone else. Actor didn't waste anytime listening to Casino complain, just boosted each of them up and over. Goniff dropped down the other side but both Casino and Chief stayed on top and reached down to help the con artist up.

"Round them up Corporal Jergens. We're done for the day."

"Yes sir."

Well we have the beginnings of an alliance, he thought, and a potential negotiator. Actor had taken the lead and the others had seen the sense in following him. All but Goniff, Garrison laughed to himself. He was only motivated by his ever present hunger.

ggg

The light switched on to groans of protest. "Alright gentlemen, on your feet." Garrison watched them roll out of their beds. Chief was on his feet almost instantly, alert and ready. Actor and Casino were sitting on the sides of their cots, interested in their surroundings but not fully awake, but Goniff and Wheeler were still wrapped in their blankets.

"Bloody Hell! We just got the lights turned out!" Only disheveled blonde hair could be seen as the cockney pick pocket shielded his face with the blanket.

"That was six hours ago, Goniff. Now get up."

The little cat burglar folded the covers back and did the calculations on his fingers. "It's only four o'clock in the bleedin' morning! You ain't gonna make us run that blinkin' obstacle course in the dark?!" Swinging his legs over the side of the cot he scrubbed his hands through his hair and yawned in the lieutenant's direction.

"Breakfast first Goniff, then the firing range. You've got weapons training with Sergeant Major Rawlins before we start on the jump tower."

"Breakfast! Whyn't ya say so!"

Garrison watched them for a moment to make sure they were all started on the process of getting up. The light had come into the second story man's eyes at the mention of food, Wheeler looked up at the promise of the firing range. This would be the first time they'd been allowed to get their hands on a weapon. No one commented on the prospect of the jump tower and the only reason he could figure for that was that none of them had ever been on one before. The next time he made that little announcement it probably wouldn't be taken so quietly.

When he followed the servicemen hauling the food into the room several minutes later, the men were ready with their questions.

"Whadda ya mean, 'jump tower'?" Wheeler shouldered the soldier away to get to the tray that had been placed on the table next to his cot, then turned on the man, "What'r you waitin for, sweetie, a tip?" When the irritated guard took a step towards him the convict rose to his feet to meet the challenge.

"At ease, corporal!" Garrison was across the room and standing in front of Wheeler as the soldier stepped back as ordered. "Wheeler if you've got enough energy to cause trouble I guess that means you guys can make it around that obstacle course a couple of times before you hit the firing range… Right?"

Wheeler glared at the officer in front of him before sinking back on the cot and turning to his food. Garrison turned to survey the room, the others were quietly absorbed in their trays.

ggg

"I said … Get outta my way!" Wheeler was on the prowl and rather than pace back and forth in front of Actor's area, where the way was clear he'd chosen the path past Chief who was in no mood to move.

The young man cocked his head and asked quietly. "You think you got what it takes to move me, Wheeler?"

It had been a long day. Their new jailor had them up before dawn and out on the firing range to practice under the watchful eye of armed guards. Then in response to trouble from Wheeler they'd made a quick run through the hated obstacle course before loading onto the truck for the trip out to the jump tower where they'd had their first taste of what it was going to be like for them when they dropped into Europe to do their job. They were sore and tired, all of them, and Actor was in no mood to participate in the punishment that would be meted out to the whole group if the lieutenant found these two fighting.

"Be quiet, both of you." He rose to his feet to confront Wheeler as the man started back along the track towards him. "All this argument will get us is another chance to run a circuit around the grounds." By the time he was standing face to face with the angry man the others were on their feet murmuring their agreement. "Are you so much a fool that you can't understand these security measures?" The European con artist swung is leg fast enough to cause the chain to rattle in the track. "To meet even our simplest needs, Wheeler, we have to cooperate and I would wager as soon as we do, these," he jerked the chain again, "will come off." Gesturing to the others in the room. "They seem to have worked that out so I suggest that it's only your continued stupidity and stubbornness that is keeping us in these shackles."

The others had moved along the track to stand at the man's back, leaving Wheeler only one choice, backtracking.

"More trouble, gentleman?"

Goniff, standing at the back of the group, whirled to face the door. "No trouble, mate!" he grinned. "Actor here was just gonna read us a bed time story outta one of 'is fancy books. We was just decidin' which one."

Craig watched them shuffle along the track as they turned to follow his movement across the room. By the time he'd settled himself against the wall next to the window they were all ranged along the track in front of Actor's area. The confrontation had been between the con man and Wheeler this time he noted, with the other three men standing at Actor's back.

"Actor, can I see you over here a moment?" As he expected it was the little pick pocket who made the first move, sidling along the track to reach the slot that led up to the confidence expert's cot. When he'd cleared the main track Goniff dropped onto the cot and patted the blanket next to him, encouraging the other two men to move out of the way. Casino glared at Wheeler a moment and had just started to move when the belligerent get-away driver finally took a step back.

"It's faster this way. You too much of a _**fool**_ you can't see that!?" Turning his back on the group he stalked back to his own slot and pulled back out of the way, bowing the tall Italian through with a wave of his hand.

Actor considered Wheeler a moment. "Thank you, Wheeler." And then he started along the track towards the lieutenant.

Wheeler gritted his teeth and smiled as Actor moved past him, "This better work." he growled, just loud enough for the con man's ears.

A gallant gesture, Garrison thought. Too bad the feral smile didn't match the act. But, he sighed to himself, at least they'd convinced Wheeler to cooperate… Maybe there was some hope after all. He glanced up at the group's de facto second in command as he stood calmly waiting to hear what was required of him.

"We've got less than a week and these guys need to learn some German and French… Think you can handle it?"

Actor smiled, he knew he would be called on to help the young Army officer eventually and he had every intention of encouraging the man to rely on him. He already had a plan in mind that could see them free of their chains and their agreement with the government but he hadn't broached the subject to the others. Language sessions would be the perfect cover. "Of course, Lieutenant Garrison, I would be honored to help." Turning his smile on the group ranged across the room he continued, "And I am certain I will have a most eager and cooperative group of students."

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Actor was encouraged. The safecracker knew a bit of Italian and the Indian had been exposed to Spanish as a child making it easier for both of them to understand the French he was trying to teach them. Goniff had grown up near a Jewish section in East London but he thought his limited store of Yiddish would prove more of a hindrance that an advantage as it had a tendency to corrupt his accent if he tried to say anything in German. Wheeler lacked all language skills even, to Actor's ear, slaughtering his own English with street slang.

They were gathered in a conference room that had been set up next to their dormitory. Actor kept the language lessons boring and repetitive and at his 'suggestion' the others had been cooperating with the base personnel. After the first session the guard left them alone in the room. The shackles they wore secured them and he was only going to be across the hall…

"Where you figure they'r sendin' us?" Casino stubbed the cigarette out and tossed it in the tray.

The European con man shrugged. "It can only be France."

"How come you'r so sure it ain't Italy hot shot? Or right into Kraut land?"

"Because they are training us to jump, Wheeler. There are already Allied troops on the ground in Italy… "

Casino snorted a laugh. "Yeah we could land there all nice and comfortable you idiot"

"…and if we were going into Germany there wouldn't be no need of us learnin' French." Chief offered quietly.

Actor spared the Indian a surprised smile as he cautioned the others. "Keep your voices down, both of you! If the lieutenant hears you we will all be out on that obstacle course." Leaning back in his chair he considered each of the men in silence.….It seemed now might be the right time to introduce his idea.

Goniff slid forward, resting is elbows on the table. "You got somethin' cookin' in that head a yours?"

There was a possibility that not everyone would be willing to go along with him and if his reading of the men had been inaccurate he ran a big risk. If there was an informant in the group, a 'squealer', and he continued to have doubts about the Englishman, he ran the very real risk of being returned to American and prison in chains. He kept his voice casual. "I was merely considering the possibility that we might be able to get away once they drop us over there."

"And then what, get shot by the Krauts?"

"I admit there would be certain risks involved… but it might prove lucrative as well."

Chief frowned a moment. He thought he knew what the con man meant,,, but he wasn't sure. He didn't want these guys to think he was stupid, but he didn't want to risk his neck without all the particulars either. "Lucrative… what's that?"

Casino gave a derisive snort and just raised his hand, rubbing the first two fingers and thumb together. "Moolah, dummy. Dough!"

Chief stiffened and shot a black look across the table. He swallowed his come back. There'd be another time and if he played it cool now he might have more than words to use to show the sarcastic east coast con he wasn't dealin' with a dummy.

Goniff shared a worried look between the two hot heads. They'd had 'words' before and had come to blows over it causing the whole group to be sent through the obstacle course. "You mean just scarper?" The plan sounded good, but only if all of them went for it. "Just take off as soon as we land over there?"

"Jeeze! Don't be an idiot!" Casino scoffed. "We're gonna come down right in the middle of a squad a military goons packin' rifles."

"You are probably right Casino." Actor concurred. "There will probably be someone waiting on the ground when we arrive. Goniff, I am not proposing we set out on our own immediately. What I am suggesting is that there may come a time that the opportunity will present itself and I believe we should be ready for it."

"Don't sound like you think it'll just be the one job?"

Actor turned and looked at the Indian leaning by the window. "I don't discount the possibility of the government holding to their agreement." He waited a moment until they were all looking at him, waiting for him to finish. "I just don't want to stake my life, or my chance at freedom on it." There was a lose board in the floor just outside the room and they heard the guard before the door opened. The con man let his eyes range over the men. "We'll continue this discussion later." And by the time the door was open they were all diligently studying German rank insignia.

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The men had been herded down onto the firing range for a practice session with the Sergeant Major. They spent the remainder of the day practicing at the jump tower. The day always ended with a trip around the obstacle course before they were allowed to hit the showers. Their meal was still brought to them in their room. The group had been quiet and cooperative, their attention on the mission and the possibility of freedom either in Europe before they started the job or back home in America after they were done.

Goniff sat staring at his empty plate a moment before risking a glance around the room. He figured up the odds of getting the leavings off any of the other's trays and decided they weren't very good. With a sigh he shifted his tray off his knees onto the table that sat next to his cot and turned his attention on the man that sat across from him. "You don't believe in that parole much, do ya mate?"

Casino snorted a laugh and settled his tray on the floor, sliding it under his bed. "You got that right, babe. That crack at a parole's nothin' but a pipedream." Throwing himself down on his back on his bunk he stared up at the ceiling.

Goniff followed the half filled tray with his eyes before shifting his gaze back to the safe cracker. "If you din't b'lieve in it why'd ya take the deal?"

"Jeeze! You are an idiot aren't ya Goniff! Got me out where I might get away, didn't it?"

"And just how do you figure we get ready to blow this deal, professor?" Wheeler wanted out alright, but he wasn't sure he wanted to follow the con man's lead.

Actor turned and settled a steady gaze on the irritating wheel man. This could work, he could make it work there was no doubt about that, but it would be much easier if Wheeler wasn't along. "By learning the language Wheeler, something you seem reluctant to do. By working together, something else you have difficulty with. And by keeping ourselves open and ready to exploit any opportunity that presents itself…. But you have to have a certain level of intelligence and imagination for that."

Casino snorted another laugh from his side of the room. Wheeler's eyes narrowed in hatred. The con man had big ideas, he thought, but he didn't have the guts to see them through. He might have the contacts over there in Europe and he might know the languages but he didn't have what it took to lead them against Garrison. "I'm smart enough to handle myself big man. I done it plenty a times in the joint. You just be ready to follow my lead when it goes down!"

"Sure Wheeler, we'll be ready."


	3. Chapter 3

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Garrison sat at his desk waiting for the confidence expert to make his appearance. Actor was always cooperative, appearing almost eager to be of assistance, but he took his own sweet time showing up if he was sent for. It allowed him to be in control, Craig thought, and let him make an entrance. He laughed to himself. Actor, … the working name sure fit. With that deep resonate voice and imposing presence he'd cut a fine figure on any stage. He could imagine him wielding a sword and reciting Shakespeare. But he could tone down his gestures a bit. Quick reflexes had been the only thing that allowed him to pull out of range when the big man turned with a flourish out at the jump tower this morning. If he'd been any slower he'd be sporting a black eye.

"You sent for me, Lieutenant Garrison?"

Managing to avoid jumping at the sound of the con man's voice Garrison glanced up and waved the Italian to the seat across the desk from him and wondered how a man his size could still move so silently around the place. On this floor, and out on the grounds the men were free of their chains, attended by guards, and he often turned to find Actor standing just off his right shoulder. If he could use that graceful body control out in the field he might stand a good chance of surviving. Craig sorted through the files on the desk in front of him and waited for the man to get settled.

Actor arranged himself comfortably on the chair and waited. It was going just as he had hoped, he was being called into the office regularly to confer with the lieutenant on the men's progress with their lessons. Soon he hoped the young officer would begin to rely on him for other things.

"How are the language lessons going?"

"Slowly." He smiled when Garrison glanced up at him. "I believe with enough time we might see some improvement but I'm afraid there are no hidden geniuses in our little group of hopefuls."

Craig nodded. So, he thought, equalizing our positions and aligning yourself with me. It's going to be interesting to see how this plays out. "But you have made some progress?"

"Certainly. They all understand some of the basic commands and recognize rank on some of the different uniforms." Actor watched the young man a moment and then favored him with one of his most charming smiles. "But if you would like to keep from getting caught I think it best they not try to say anything…. At least not in German. Their accents are dreadful!"

"The files indicate Casino speaks some Italian."

"He does. He said he learned it from a cellmate in prison. But that's not likely to be of any use to us. We are dropping into France, are we not?" They hadn't been told anything about the job they'd been brought over to do, but process of elimination and some basic intelligence gathering was all that was needed to pick France as the likeliest destination.

Garrison stared at him a moment and went back to going over the files in front of him. No sense letting the cat out of the bag too early. If the group managed to do their job, if they didn't get themselves killed, they'd be getting further training and sent out on other assignments. Italian might just come in handy, but it would be up to someone else to decide if the men continued and expanded their lessons. All he had to do was get them through this first one, get back and do the evaluation on their potential as a Special Forces unit. As soon as that was done he'd been promised he could go back to working solo.

"Well, whatever they know now will have to do. We have our orders." Garrison glanced up again and caught the flicker of interest in his con man's eyes.

Actor experienced a thrill of excitement but schooled his face and voice into casual disinterest. "When do we leave?"

"First thing in the morning." Might as well let Actor continue his act as second in command and save himself a trip up the stairs and a gripe session headed up by Wheeler or Casino. "Training is suspended for today. Tell the men to get as much rest as they can." Garrison followed Actor with his eyes as the older man rose from the chair and walked towards the door. Just as the guard who had been waiting outside stepped into view he called out, causing the man to turn in the doorway. "And, Actor. Tell them not to lose any sleep over this… There's always a chance it'll all be called off before we take off tomorrow."

"Don't tell me our abilities are still in doubt?" Actor waited in the doorway, but the lieutenant had already gone back to his reports and took no notice of him. The guard cleared his throat and reached past him to pull the door closed.

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"So we're goin' tomorrow morning?" Casino was glad they'd finally be on the move, waitin' around drove him nuts.

"Unless something happens to change the plans."

"Like what? Somebody chickenin' out?"

"You volunteerin' for that, Wheeler?"

"Watch your mouth Indian! The professor here says we gotta keep a lid on the fightin' and cooperate here… He didn't say nothin' about me slittin' your throat once we get over there and that Boy Scout has his back turned."

Actor watched the two men. The getaway driver was pacing along the track in front of his bed. He was tense, appearing to have grown larger with pent up energy. The youngest member of the group was sitting on the window sill staring out onto the grounds. Chief was coiled and ready to meet the threat if Wheeler moved on him, but it seemed all of his talking had finally done some good. Instead of following the insults with violence Chief continued to stare out his window and Wheeler threw himself down on his cot and stared at the ceiling.

"There are many things that could cause a change of plans, Wheeler. The weather over the channel or our target would be the simplest. Or whatever problem they are sending us out on could resolve itself…."

"What'd happen to us, then?" Goniff looked up from his game of solitaire, a card still poised over one of the columns.

Casino had been watching the solo card game and rolled off his bunk to pluck the card out of the little man's hand and throw it down in position. "We'd be right back in stir, baby."

"But they said if we did this job for 'em" the second story man protested, "they'd let us out."

"And we wouldn't a done a job for 'em if they find a reason to pull the plug on this little caper, would we?"

"But we wouldn't a done nothin' to cause that!"

Casino just snorted a laugh at the naïve Brit's belief in the government livin' up to its word.

"So, what about takin' off on our own Actor?" He wasn't goin' back to stir. Chief had made that promise to himself when the plane that brought him over here lifted off the runway. He didn't much want to work with these guys or follow Actor, but he'd do it to keep from goin' back.

"I'm afraid we'll have to wait until we get over there to see how successful an attempt like that might be."

"Not so sure of yourself with the prospect starin' you in the face are ya professor?"

"Wheeler, I would prefer to wait and see just where we are being sent. I know a great many people on the continent but that does not mean that I will have a contact in the exact area of our assignment." The con man turned back to his book and cut off further debate with the man.

Actor didn't doubt his own ability to get away from the Army, to blend into his surroundings and disappear. But if he was going to take this group with him, as they had discussed, he would need ready access to help from contacts he'd made while working in Europe. He could take them deeper into France, to Italy, or even into Germany or Switzerland where, with him leading them, they could turn a nice profit doing what they did best. And since they would have to depend on him because of their lack of languages and knowledge of the countries they would work in, a lion's share of those profits would come to him… Not an unpleasant prospect. He sat a moment and contemplated the probability of being let loose here in England… it would make it much easier to return to Europe where they could operate with ease. There was still the slightest chance the government might live up to their bargain. It might be foolish to totally discount the possibility of freedom after completing this assignment. But then there was the thrill of the job at hand to consider. He hadn't been able to get any details about the assignment out of Garrison. That in itself was a blow to his ego and would have kept him eager to keep at it until he succeeded, but just the idea of conning the Germans…. Putting one over on a military machine with the expertise and power to conquer most of Europe? It might be the biggest job of his life and he found he had no desire to turn his back on the chance to pull it off.

Goniff watched the cards as he laid them out on the floor between the cots. They weren't falling very good and he slipped one off the bottom of the deck… Yeah! That'd make it easier to win the game. He couldn't give up on the idea of getting out of this job with a parole, a chance to start over. He could imagine the look on his Mum's face when he walked up free as a bird and promised her thing's'd be different… 'Course he'd promised her stuff like that before, but this time he'd mean it, this time he'd do it. He wasn't so sure now he'd fall in behind the others and make a break once they got over there. Sure, Casino said it was all a con, a trick, that they were chumps to fall for the government's promise… but he said that about everything. Casino didn't have faith in nothin' other than Casino. But Goniff had hope. He never could figure out why, considerin', but he had hope.

Casino eyed the Limey as he played solitaire and laughed to himself that the guy'd cheat even playin' against himself. He glanced around the room and wondered what the other guys were thinking about, then rolled on to his back on his cot and stuck his hands behind his head and started bringing up an image of each one of his family. It was something he did when he was wired or couldn't sleep and usually relaxed him… It kept him occupied for a long time anyway, he came from a big family. He laid there and tried to imagine what it would be like to get that parole and go home, walk in the door of his parents house and tell them it was all over, that he was free and clear and gonna make a fresh start… Then he snorted a laugh and turned his back when Goniff looked up to see what was so funny. He stared at the wall that sat inches from his face. Him get clear and make a fresh start? Wasn't never gonna happen no matter how much he tried to believe in it. Casino was good at what he did, he knew it,,, so did the mob. He'd been able to steer clear of a permanent hook up with 'em, but the pressure was on, even in the joint, and once you got tied up with those guys there wasn't any way they'd let you off, let you go on and live a normal life. That was the only future he had to look forward to, workin' for them… That, or a bullet.

Chief stared out the window at the trees that sat on either side of the drive that led up from the gate. There was a wind that was rocking the leaves, causing the trees to sway gently back and forth. The fog that usually blanketed the grounds had given way to high wispy clouds that slipped across the sky. The sun was going down off to the west, but there was no way to see the horizon, not even from the upper floor window where he sat. There were too many trees here, too much green, … It wasn't natural. He sat in his window and wondered how he'd gotten so far from home and if he'd ever see the place again. This was a chance, that Army officer'd told him, a chance to get a clean record, to start over. Chief closed his eyes and rolled his forehead against the cold glass. A chance? Guys like him never got chances, no matter how much they wanted 'em.

Wheeler lay on his back on the cot, stared at the ceiling and imagined what it was gonna be like over there. They'd pile in one a them planes and take their little trip across the channel. When they got over there he'd hook up and be the first one outta the plane, lead this group a losers right from the start. Soon as they were on the ground he'd take Garrison out. He'd never taken the lead before but that wasn't 'cause he didn't have what it took. He just never had the chance on the jobs he'd pulled before. He was the getaway driver most a the time, and the muscle, but he had brains too. The other guys'd see that as soon as he made his move. That Italian, he was all mouth, just like the safecracker… Soon as he challenged Garrison the others'd be at his back and they'd tear the guy apart. He couldn't wait.

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"Alright, gentlemen, show time!" Garrison flipped the switch and flooded the room with light. "You have one hour to get ready." Craig waited until they were all sitting on the sides of their cots. "Any one of you offer any trouble to the guards and you've bought yourself a one way ticket back to the States. Hit the showers! Your clothes will be left in here on your bunks. As soon as you're ready the guards will escort you downstairs and you'll be loaded onto the truck for the trip out to the airfield." Garrison turned on the pick pocket and cut off his protest. "We'll have breakfast at the field while we wait for the final OK Goniff…. Now get moving!"


	4. Chapter 4

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The trip over in the plane had been uneventful … until they got word they were over the drop zone and he started to release the men from their handcuffs. Wheeler's attempt at a sarcastic remark had fallen flat. Next came Chief's thinly veiled threat with the switchblade. Then he'd found Goniff handing him the cuffs he'd worn and explaining how he'd borrowed the keys only to turn and find Casino unlocking his with his own piece of spring steel. Actor had earned a round of laughter at his expense by calling him 'stewardess' and requesting he not be forgotten. Craig debated for a split second about letting the Italian con artist jump in cuffs before he stepped over to unlock the shackles. The men moved into position at his command, a surprise for this group, and jumped when he ordered them to … all but Wheeler who panicked at the last minute. Craig had watched him on the flight over as he grew more nervous and agitated and tried to talk to him and calm him down when he handed around the coffee. Wheeler of course wouldn't have any part of it. He tried to go back on the arrangement with the government when it was finally his time to jump. No surprise at all considering the man involved. He'd finally come around though, when Garrison explained his options with his fist and shoved him out the door.

A squad of soldiers met them on the ground and helped them out of their chutes. The lieutenant that led the group had just identified himself and suggested they get off the open meadow when Wheeler'd arrived on the scene and landed a haymaker on his jaw. The chance of getting Wheeler off his hands by taking up the offer the squad's lieutenant made to take charge of him was appealing but Garrison rejected it. They were on his turf now, Wheeler would have to follow him or risk getting himself caught and killed as a spy… He just needed a little reminder of that. But as much as he wanted to give him that reminder right then, Garrison didn't get the chance, the other men beat him to it, hustling Wheeler out of earshot for a little meeting and disciplinary action of their own devising

"Jeeze! Are you nuts? I told ya we'd be surrounded by rifles. What'd ya want a pop that guy for now?!" Casino stared at Wheeler and wondered just how stupid one guy could be. All they needed was for one shot to be fired and they'd have the whole German army down on their necks…

"Just givin' him a taste of what's comin'." Wheeler threw his chest out and reveled in the attention for a moment. They were all lookin' at him. All of 'em wishin' they'd had the guts to land that Army warden on his backsides in the dirt… And right in front of a brace a rifles too! That'd show 'em he had what it took, that'd show Garrison he wasn't no coward. … No matter what'd happened up in that plane, he wasn't no coward.

"You're lucky Garrison didn't take up that other lieutenant's offer and send you back in chains." Actor observed with disgust.

"He ain't gonna do that…He needs me!" Wheeler blustered and turned away from them to head for the trees where he could think out his next move. But the feeling of elation, the sense of power, of being in control didn't last. Lucky? he thought. If he'd been lucky he never would a thought this little caper'd be safer than bein' in the joint. If he had any luck that fancy racecar driver would a heard him comin and he would be standin' here now instead a layin' in traction back in a nice comfortable prison hospital. If he'd had any luck that fancy pants lieutenant would a had him cuffed and he'd be heading back to the American side a this mess with that other squad for protection all the way, not standin' around here strainin' his ears for the sound of a German patrol sneakin' up on them through the bushes.

Casino watched Wheeler strut away from them and throw himself down in the shade of another group of trees growing closer to the river's edge. "I say we let him take the warden out if he wants to."

"And do what if he succeeds?"

"Well you'r the one who's been talkin' up how easy it'd be for you to get us out of this mess."

"Casino I would be able to do that for myself at any time, but if the rest of you are to come along you will just have to wait until we are in an area where I have the proper contacts." But Actor considered the possibility of something happening to Garrison now they were on the ground. Once they made contact with the resistance, if they could even do that without him, they would undoubtedly help the group return to England where, just as undoubtedly, they would be helped to the first transport heading back to the States. He didn't think this was the time, or the place, to make their bid for freedom.

"What makes you so sure it'll be Wheeler left standin' when the dust clears?" The group's Indian scout asked quietly.

Goniff turned an open mouthed stare on the young man. Casino thought Wheeler was enough to take the lieutenant out, that's all he needed to know. "Blimey, are you kidding?! Just look at that bloke. He could batter down a brick wall all on his own."

"Only 'cause the wall don't have any brains." Chief continued to watched Garrison where he sat talking to the guy who'd headed up the group that met them. "Don't think they'd drop a guy behind the lines if he didn't know how to handle himself."

Casino gave a derisive snort. "Yeah! I'll just bet they had special trainin' in street fighting! You saw those guys back at that that fancy joint in England. They even run according to regulation. … " Turning he considered the officer with a critical eye. "He's not gonna be able to handle what Wheeler'll throw at him 'cause it ain't in his rule book."

Chief shared a look with the safecracker before turning back to continue his study of their new warden. The guy might be right. They hadn't seen Garrison in action yet. He'd been standin' on the sidelines while they'd gotten their instruction from the Sergeant back in England. Maybe he was all talk.

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The group continued to lounge in the shade of the trees as Garrison sat talking with the Army lieutenant who'd met them. They'd all glanced up when the scout bounded down the hill and slid in next to his CO to report, but the only one who made a move was Wheeler. He rolled into cover under a large log that sat along the bank while the rest just continued to stand there and wonder what was going on. They finally got moving at Garrison's shout to take cover, but simply moved back behind the log…. Until shots were fired. Goniff rabbited only to be turned by slugs peppering the ground at his feet and Wheeler broke cover and headed for the river before he remembered he couldn't swim and crawled back to the log to make his stand with the others. They weren't going to make much of a stand, none of them were packing, all they could do was watch the fight between the two groups of soldiers and hope their side came out on top.

"Look at that! Those guys're runnin' out on us!" Wheeler had risked a look over the log just in time to see the Army squad take off. If they were leavin', so was he. He pushed up into a crouch but before he could take off after them he felt a large hand on his shoulder, holding him back. Jerking away he turned to face Actor.

"It's a diversion, you fool. Stay where you are." The library at the mansion had some texts on military tactics. Actor had never needed to know how armies operated before, but he prided himself on his preparation for a job and had spent much of his free time going through the volumes. If nothing else he thought it would allow him to engage Garrison in conversation… not that the younger man gave him much opportunity. Outside his daily reports on how the others were coming on their language lessons Actor had been left in the company of these common thugs. Even though he would waste no grief over Wheeler's loss he had to do what he could to keep the idiot from breaking cover and giving their position away. He reached out again and grabbed a fist full of jacket and only released his grip on Wheeler's shoulder when the Germans took the expected course and pursued the American soldiers away from their area.

They waited and listened as the sound of gunfire faded off into the distance. The first one to make a move was Garrison as he silently used the cover around the clearing to get to them.

"Nice a you to join us, commander!" He was still scared but he couldn't let the others see it so he lashed out at the man in charge.

"Can it Wheeler." Garrison ordered quietly and then turned on the rest of them. "The next time you hear me tell you to get down I want every one of you to drop like stones! You could've gotten yourselves killed just now…." None of their training seemed to have done any good. Maybe it was a mistake to bring men like this out here. They had the skills he knew would benefit the intelligence service, and they were certainly no stranger to danger and violence. Unlike regular soldiers none of them would have to get used to the idea that any wrong move could get them caught or killed… they'd all live with that fact for years. But the idea of following commands was totally foreign to them. Orders from a leader, a 'boss', sure, all of them but Actor had worked for other more powerful men in the criminal organizations back in the states. But the automatic, instantaneous reaction to a command given, even one that would save their necks just wasn't in their repertoire.

Goniff looked around at the others with a nervous grin. The training back at the mansion had been kinda fun really. Well, not the runnin' part … And he wasn't too fond of that hand t'hand stuff … And he coulda left jumpin' off that tower out altogether! … But scrambling' over the obstacle course wasn't so bad. And the firing range, Goniff had never had much to do with guns and the like so that was kinda fun. He liked to play gunfighter when he was out there. …. Well, in his head anyway. "S'not like back at the mansion, eh, fellas?"

"You got that right, Limey. Here they're shooting real bullets." Casino watched their new warden rummage in the sack he'd brought along and relaxed a little when he saw the guns come out. Finally they'd be packin', they'd have somethin' to protect themselves with.

Once the weapons were handed around and Garrison had sent the kid off to watch for their contact he'd finally spilled the beans about the mission. The Germans' had a counterfeiting ring set up and were ready to crank out American twenties. The only one in the group who didn't have the brains to know what that would lead to was Wheeler… he had to be told. No surprise Casino thought. All that guy had goin' for him was a big mouth and a lot a hot air.

Actor was intrigued by the thought of conning the Germans out of a set of counterfeit plates but when Garrison told them they'd be attempting to switch them for coded plates of their own, and then he saw the quality of the work on the set of plates the lieutenant produced for their inspection he had a hard time controlling his imagination. The possibilities were endless.. The con man shared a quick look with the others. They could take these plates from Garrison, or they could make off with the plates they got away from the Germans… They could wait and take both sets of plates, selling the coded set to a European group, making enough money they could all go their separate ways. He, of course, would keep the second set of plates and sell them himself. It would be a fair trade for getting them out of Europe, the rest would see that… If they didn't, he could always leave them there to fend for themselves.

Goniff followed the plates with his eyes as Garrison took them back and stashed them in that belt he wore round his waist. The warden was clever, tuckin' 'em down in front like he done. It'd be impossible for him to get his talented fingers into that pouch, under the fellas shirt, down below his belt… He'd never be able to do it. .. Not without gettin' hisself killed. He caught the look the Italian toff shot him and shook his head. But he'd keep his eyes open, just like Actor said, and watch for any possible opening to present itself.

Casino studied the others as the lieutenant stashed the plates back in the safety belt he was wearin'. They were all practically droolin' over what those things would make on the black market. That'd be one hell of a bankroll alright. A switch, huh? So he'd be breakin' a safe or a lock box to get to the things. … Might get a chance to just slip 'em in his pocket and take off on his own. He knew some Italian and the Krauts were in tight with some a them. …

Wheeler cut his eyes at Garrison and watched him put the plates away. The nerve a the guy, takin' 'em back before he even got a chance to touch 'em. Well, he could play at being the leader for now! It wouldn't be long before he'd find someway to make a move on him. Soon as he called the guy out and had the others standin' at his back they'd just see who'd be holdin' that little bag a million dollar plates.

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A warning hiss from Chief sent them scrambling for cover. Peering out from behind a screen of brush they watched the scout stop a dame on a bike and heard her ask for Garrison by name. After ordering a halt to the speculative comments from his men Garrison stepped out of cover and after a quick conference with the girl they were on their way again. It was the girl's father who was their contact but something had gone wrong, he hadn't shown up in time to come and meet them so she'd come herself. Garrison took off first with the girl walking along the road with her like they was comin' back from a date or somethin'. But he sent them into the brush that ran between the road and the river. They spread out a little letting the Indian kid go first so they could follow his lead.

Chief kept an eye on Garrison and the girl as they walked along the road towards the town. The lieutenant seemed relaxed enough as he strolled along through the dappled shade. Garrison had tossed his automatic rifle to him before he took off, but Chief knew he had at least one pistol tucked into his belt under his jacket where it couldn't be seen. He could hear the others as they blundered along behind him. He was far enough ahead that if they were discovered he'd probably be in the clear. He knew he could fade away into the woods, but after that he'd be out of luck, he didn't speak the languages they used over here. Sure Actor had been teachin' them some words…. But if he opened his mouth he'd give himself away. His sharp eyes picked up movement on the road ahead and he brought his hand up so the others would stop.

They waited like statues for the speck the kid could see to resolve itself into something that would either be a threat or a friend and as they waited Casino questioned his own sanity for ever getting tied up in this. Sure the pay off was a good one, if he lived to see it. A parole. A clean slate so he could start over… then he laughed silently at his own foolishness. Yeah, right! There wasn't a way for him to stay clear and start over, , , he was hooked.


	5. Chapter 5

_c_

He'd gotten started boosting crates off the back a delivery trucks with his older brother. Selling the stuff on the black market was a way to make a quick buck when his Pop couldn't work after the baby died. Then they figured they'd make a better profit off the trucks themselves, so they learned to hot wire engines and they'd lay in wait until the driver had his back turned. Sometimes they pulled the pin and just took off with the tractor, sometimes they'd take the whole rig… There'd been some close calls with the cops on those first few runs as they taught themselves how to handle a truck and trailer in the narrow alleys in town. Then they had to figure out how to move the merchandise. One of their Pop's brothers knew a guy who knew a guy and that brought the two of them to the attention of one of the minor mob bosses.

Casino didn't count lifting that first crate off the back of that first truck as his first mistake. He reserved that distinction for getting tied up with those guys… Not only was it his first mistake, it was probably the biggest one of his professional life. He'd fallen for the flattery just like any kid would and before he knew it they were pulling him into their web. The gambling and rum running wasn't a problem as far as he was concerned, some of his own family had been involved in that in the past, after all... some of them still were. And the B & E work, well he was already into that. Even the dames, as long as they were making their own choice to do the work and didn't get roughed up… It was when he found out about the drugs and saw what it did to the kids they pushed it to that he decided he wanted out. But by then the bosses had seen him work, noticed his talent and had him working with one of their best safe men and they weren't happy about turning him lose.

It was all he could do to get clear, but he finally managed to negotiate a deal. He and Marcus would pull a big job and hand over all of the profits to buy their way out, and he'd do freelance work for the mob over the next five years. From then on he was more careful who he hooked up with. Marcus hadn't been and it caused a rift between them as his brother sank deeper and deeper into the family of the mob.

Casino wasn't very old when he found himself alone on the streets. His parents had found out how he'd been making the money he'd given them and demanded he stop and find a regular job but he hadn't managed to stay in school to the end, so he didn't have that damn paper that impressed so many of those regular bosses… and he didn't want to start at the bottom in some nickel and dime job. He was already used to better than that. So he kissed his Ma, promised he'd write, promised he'd be careful and even promised he'd go straight and he'd taken off.

Some of the other freelancers had heard about him, heard about his skill. It wasn't long before he was hooked up with Tony Coletti, one of the best in the business. Tony was getting up there in years and didn't have a son to pass his skills and contacts to. He taught Casino everything he knew, introduced him to everyone he'd met in his years in the business… all for a fifteen percent cut. It wasn't too bad a deal really, considering Tony took him in and let him live right in his house and treated him like one of his own.

They worked together for three years and Casino honed his skills until he was better than his teacher, until when someone came looking for a safe man they came looking for him, not Tony. Any other guy'd a thrown him out, but not Tony…. He was happy for him, helped him plan his jobs, celebrated his successes and slammed the lid on the hole when things went wrong and he had to go to ground. Of course he always got his fifteen percent, even after he retired. He should a stayed retired too… but even Tony could be lured into a bad set up by a big pay off.

Casino tried to talk him out of it, tried to point out all the things that could go wrong. He was good at that, …seeing all the things that might happen. But Tony wouldn't listen. He was going to set himself up pretty with just one last job, then he was hangin' it up for good. He even offered him a piece of the action but Casino couldn't ignore his growing sense that somethin' was gonna go wrong big time and he let him go off alone. Three hours later when Eddie Richards brought word that the job had gone bust and Tony was laying on a slab in the morgue he really wasn't surprised at all. He gathered up his stuff, took the bankroll from the safe under Tony's bed and after he made a stop at Tony's kid's place to give her her cut he took off with Eddie. Two weeks later they circled back and hit the place where Tony'd bought it, settling the score for Tony and helping Casino handle his grief over losin' him.

The two of them traveled all over the east coast. Casino was getting to be a hot property, the mob was interested again and he had to slip and slide to keep out of their grasp as he continued to work as a freelancer. He'd been picked up a couple of times, done some time in stir but he'd managed to get out, escape and take off far enough and fast enough the screws didn't want to go to the trouble of running him down. Until that last job…

They'd cased the place for a month. Everything should a gone off just like clockwork. The alarms were disabled with no trouble, the safe was open almost as soon as Casino laid his hands on it. And the five thousand they thought they'd be looking at had turned into thirty-five G's courtesy of the breakdown of one armored car carrying a transfer of funds between banks. The driver and guard had stashed the loot in their modest little target bank while the damn truck was being repaired and the whole thing had been arranged while him and Eddie were peacefully having dinner around the corner, dreaming about what they'd do with their split of five grand. The extra loot was a gift and it should have fired off warning bells in Casino's head... but it didn't. Unfortunately along with the extra cash came extra security in the form of two federal marshals.

They made a run for it and he thought they'd lost the tail. Him and Eddie split the cash and went their separate ways… it was the plan if anything went wrong. There was a place they'd meet, a place way out in the sticks and Casino made it all the way out there. He'd been there for three days and had gone from jumping at every sound to relaxing in the solitude to wondering what happened to Eddie and finally ended up figurin' he'd got himself caught or killed. He was packing up to leave when those three carloads a cops rolled up. Runnin' from a couple of extra bank guards is one thing, running from a dozen lawmen with dogs is something totally different.

Casino took one last look out the window, threw out his gun and walked out on the porch with his hands clasped behind his head. He knew the drill and as soon as he stepped down off the last step he sank to his knees and went spread eagle on the dirt and waited.

When they charged him it was a federal rap because those were federal dollars in the safe. But there wasn't any money for them to recover at the shack… nothing to tie him to the robbery… until Eddie squealed to get a better deal for himself.

Prison wasn't a big deal to Casino. He knew guys on the inside and he knew how to handle himself so most of the time he was left alone. And he didn't usually stay long … This was different though. This was a federal pen and security was tighter here than any place he'd ever been. He resigned himself to doing the ten years and he even started takin those make up classes the warden and the social workers pushed on him. A high school certificate was just the thing, they said, to help him 'rehabilitate' himself when got out. Casino didn't think he'd turn his life around by doing the lessons the prison librarian handed around, but it kept him from going stir crazy, and it made his folks happy and gave him something to talk to them about when they made the long drive out to visit with him. Kept him out a the yard too, away from the mob muscle inside the joint. Then the war started and everything got tight and his folks stopped coming out to visit. Time dragged and those ten years seemed like they'd turned into a thousand. And that's when Garrison rolled in and made his pitch.

He watched as a couple a farmers stopped in the road to talk to the lieutenant and the French dish. A couple a minutes later the debating society broke up and the two started off towards town again. Casino shifted his attention to the Indian about ten yards in front of him. The kid was cautious, keeping his hand up, holding them back until the two Frenchmen disappeared around a curve in the road. He felt the comforting weight of the pistol in his hand and he started moving carefully forward again. He was nuts alright. If he hadn't a been crazy he never would have traded his nice safe cell for this hair brained scheme. A parole? Right! Two'd get you twenty he wouldn't live to see England again. The sooner they made their break the better he'd like it.

g

When they reached the edge of town Garrison sent them in in pairs. Goniff ambled alongside Marie, Chief and Casino half a block behind, then Actor and Wheeler. Craig evaluated them as he brought up the rear. The little cat burglar could have been any lucky fellow walking with a beautiful girl. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and strolled along, turning to listen and smile as Marie chattered away in French even though he probably didn't know a word of it. Casino and Chief appeared relaxed but he could tell by the set of their shoulders both men were strung tight, ready for trouble. Actor, … Actor would have been able to walk into any one of the shops they passed and he would have fit right in. The way he struck up a quick conversation with the locals as he moved along the street anyone watching would have thought he'd spent his whole life right here. Wheeler on the other hand marched along with back stiff, his hands clenched into fists, his cap pulled down tight and a scowl on his face that told everyone he met he was spoiling for a fight. Even Actor's casual friendliness couldn't cover for him. Wheeler was drawing the wrong kind of attention and the sooner they were safely in the basement at Duchamp's café the better. He knew it was probably a lost cause but Craig figured he'd have to talk to the guy again and try and get him to loosen up or he was going to get them all caught.

Goniff took the key from Marie's hand and gallantly opened the door, taking the bicycle from her and storing it against the front of the building as she stepped into the café. By the time Casino and Chief arrived at the doorstep the shades were up and the sign in the window showed the place open for business. They lingered outside for a moment, talking before Casino took the last drag from his cigarette flicked the butt into the street, reached for the knob, pulled the door open and stepped off the street. Actor pulled up in front of a shop two doors down from the cafe and had the presence of mind to reach out his hand and keep Wheeler with him. They browsed the meager offerings in the window display for a full two minutes before finally heading for the café. Garrison leaned against the corner of the building at the end of the street and waited until they were all inside. The shade was pulled on the door again and a hand reached to switch the sign back to closed… A male hand, probably Actor's. Craig shoved away and started around to the alley that led to the back of the building. There were some good instincts in the group. A casual observer might have thought they'd all just happened to walk into the same café…. Unless they'd got a good look at Wheeler…

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"Alright big shot, what's the plan?" They'd been shuttled through the café and straight down into the basement. Garrison stayed up top, said he'd watch out for their contact for a little while… Sure!

Actor wandered through the shadows of the cellar, stopping at the wine racks. Carefully brushing the dust off the labels he judged the place by the quality of its wine. "What do you mean?"

"Well you been shootin' off your mouth about all your great contacts over here, and how we can set up shop on our own…" Wheeler looked around at the others and saw that they were all thinking the same as him. "I don't see no reason to wait. So when do we make our move?"

"I have many contacts Wheeler, unfortunately none in this particular town." He was working his way down the rack, not really concentrating on what the blowhard was saying.

Wheeler jerked a chair away from the small table that sat in the middle of the room and threw himself down into it. Snapping the newspaper he found there up in front of his face he pretended to read it. "Aw I knew you were just a bunch a hot air! You got nuthin!"

"Can it Wheeler! That warden's gonna hear you." Chief was at the top of the stairs. He could hear the girl and Garrison moving around in the shop and their muffled conversation carried easily to his sensitive ears. Wheeler's loud voice could probably be heard clear out on the street.

"Don't you believe it! That hot shot boy scout's probably busy gettin' himself a nice piece of as…"

"Shut your mouth, Wheeler! She's a nice girl. She wouldn't do nothin' like that." He'd only just walked along beside her and most a the time she was goin' off in French but when nobody was close enough to hear she switched into English. It was nice hearin' her tell him how brave he was to come over and help 'em out like he was doin'. She seemed to think all of 'em were heroes……Nobody'd ever talked to him like he was worth somethin' before, …well, except sometimes his Mum. But she didn't have the accent that made the words sound so sweet in his ear.

Goniff shrunk back on his stool and wondered if he'd gone a bit crazy, speakin' out like that… to a bully like Wheeler too. He usually did his best to stay on the good side a blokes like that, if they had one. It just seemed a fella like him'd live longer that way. Stay on their good side, or hook up with a bigger meaner bloke. He let his eyes wander around the cellar. Chief was up at the top a the stairs, stretchin' out a braided leather garrote. Goniff hadn't figured the kid out yet but he weren't no threat, unless he pulled that switchblade and he was gonna do his best not to give him any reason to do that. The group's fancy con man was still searchin' along the wine racks for something to take his mind off his troubles and from what he'd told 'em he'd never done nothin' more than talk a bloke to death. Casino had rummaged through the bits and bobs that were stored down here and come up with an old radio to keep hisself occupied. Wheeler continued to sit at the table, tryin' to look like he knew what he was seein' on the French newspaper in his hands. Goniff would have to cross right in front of him to get over to where Casino was. He decided it wasn't worth it. He thought Casino would be the one he'd take his cues from, the one most likely to take on the job a being his boss and protector but he wasn't sure enough of it to chance an attack from an irritated Wheeler.

Goniff settled in to wait, it was easy for him, he might fidget about more than a bit but he was used to havin' other blokes tell him what to do and when to do it. That's one thing you learned when you was a follower,..how to wait for orders. And Goniff had been a follower from the time he was just a tyke....


	6. Chapter 6

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He had an older brother who was sickly from the time he was little and even though he was smaller and needed his protection he was smarter than Goniff. Bertie was the brains of any of their pranks, not being able to do much hisself, but skinny little Goniff was the muscle. So they'd been close, him and Bertie. But eventually Albert got so sick he couldn't hardly even sit up no more to hear the results of the schemes he dreamed up for his little brother and the doctor told their parents that he should be sent away to live in the country where he could be out of the soot and grime. They packed Bertie off to live with an uncle in what they believed was the country, … Well it was out a the city anyway and it was the best they could do for him. But it wasn't much better there and he didn't improve. When the doctors said their oldest was going to die his parents swapped Goniff out for his older brother and left him up at his uncles while they dealt with a dying son.

There'd always been two of them, even if his brother was scrawnier than he was and too sickly to back him up, there'd been two of them… Then Bertie was took away and it was only him to be the target of the pranks the other blokes in the neighborhood pulled… When they brought his brother home and shipped him off to a strange village instead, to stay with people they claimed were relations it was only just him,,, he didn't know any of them from Jack the lad. His cousins were into all sorts of things,,, they were bigger and older than him too. It didn't take more than one good beating and they easily bent him to their will. He found he didn't spend much time with them if he could manage it, running off to wander the streets of the village instead. It wasn't no better there though because he had to deal with bands of local boys who were only too glad to have him as a target. When his uncle finally gave up tryin' to make things right for him and set him up at the vicar's school he was all alone when he run a foul of that pervert. Soon as he could he run home again, getting there just as Bertie was dyin'.

He lived on the streets for a bit, when his folks didn't have nothin' left to deal with him after his brother died, and he started plying his trade among the shopkeepers in the area… But he'd learned his lessons, he hooked up with a crowd of older boys and did just what he was told, and handed over everything he took…well, except for a little bauble or two that might a took his fancy. When he was picked up the first time and taken home he had to face his fathers' anger… The old man wasn't disappointed in him for going bad, being involved in what the law considered 'undesirable activity' was something of a family business. No, he was in a strop over the boy getting caught and bringing old Bill home where he could snoop into his own doin's. His dad eventually died of cancer but not before seeing him well set up on a criminal career. He was his fence and his first tutor. He saw to it he learned from the best in the business when it come to pick pocketing and second story work … all for a price a 'course. Goniff turned all the takin's over, either to his own father, or to the man he was apprenticed to. The little fancies he made off with he usually give to his Mum. He told her he got the money running messages up on the high street and bought the little treasures for her. If she knew where he really got 'em she never said.

After his father died he had to hook up with a group that could keep him safe. It wasn't hard. He'd never been very big, and he wasn't aggressive at all, he just didn't seem to have it in him. So the lads on the street knew he wasn't gonna be no trouble. Goniff was used to turning the lion's share of his takings over to someone else… And he was good at what he did. They said he could steal a marks breath if he wanted, or find his way into a building through a key hole if there weren't no other way. He was so good in fact he stopped havin' to think about what he was doin' and sometimes he'd fall to day dreamin when he was on a job. That's what done him under.

The lads set him the task a getting inside a flat up in London. The bloke and his missus were known to keep a fair amount of jewelry and cash layin' about and they was on a high enough rung of the snobbery ladder that their doin's were listed in the society columns of the London rags. There was a big charity do at some country estate and they'd be gone for the week so the way was clear… except for the doorman who took his job and pension seriously enough to actually wander the building and keep track of who was comin' in and out. That was no real problem though, he wouldn't be goin' through the door, there were other ways.

There was a building to the west of the one they wanted, just across a narrow street. The thing was gutted, the owners trying to turn it into flashier flats in order to draw in bigger rents. It was a tall building and rather than have his workers clambering up and down ladders and scaffolds to work up on the very top the crew boss had worked a deal with the fancy place next door. They'd arrange their work schedule around any swanky do the residents of the building wanted to schedule in exchange for letting his crew throw a catwalk across the narrow alley that separated the places and use their freight lift to get to the job. It'd been Goniff got wind a that arrangement and mention it to one a the blokes in the gang…. He chatted up one a the maids that worked in the target building and got other info too. There'd be more 'n just that one flat open to them if they just waited a few days. The residents of the building had their own party planned for the end a the week. A 'course he didn't get none a the credit when the information floated to the top man's ears.

They'd gone to work with the crew on that gutted building, some of them. They hauled rubble and supplies for the more skilled workers while they cased the buildings and refined their plan. The crew boss was a good fella, careful of honorin' his agreement with the place next door. On the day of the party he made sure the work was finished up early, even seein' to it the lift was swept clean when they was done with it… in fact his attention to that little detail, and a bit of shuffle footing by his mates is what left Goniff up on top a the building without being missed.

It was going to be easy enough. All he had to do was wait until it was dark and the party was in full swing. He'd slip across the cat walk and fill his bags from the jewel boxes and stashes of the flats next door and haul it all down to his mates waitin' in the alley below. The only thing those toffs would have left was what they was wearin' at that fancy bash… or what they was clever enough to stash in a safe or lock box that was too heavy to carry away. Goniff settled in, layin' out on his back on the tarps and squirming to get comfortable he munched on the meat pie he'd brung along and stared up at the night sky.

There weren't no stars overhead, the city was too full of light and the sky, even here in the moneyed side too filled with smoke drifting in from the factories. He could imagine the stars were there though. He'd seen them once or twice when he was just a kid and went away when his brother was dyin' … It was the only good memory of them times, seein stars overhead at night. Goniff started in dreamin' a how them stars sparkled and gradually they turned into the twinkling lights that was strung up at fairs and circuses… Circus work, now there was somethin' that might be right up his alley. …

When the tower clock struck the hour it was all he could do to pull his wits back and get about the business at hand. He made his way across the narrow plank that led to the top of the building that was going to deliver such a lovely haul. Carefully he slipped in and out of the flats that opened their doors to him… the owners thinking themselves safe enough in their own building that they hadn't bothered with the locks when they set out for a night of revelry… For the wiser tenants he just scrambled down a drainpipe and in a window. By the time he was finished his pack was stuffed and he was stooped over a little under the load.

He had to stop and consider how he'd manage going back across that plank that lay from the top of one building to the top of the other. He shifted the pack on his back so it was more comfortable and he practiced a bit on a pipe that lay there on the roof, just to test out his balance. Just a bit wobbly he decided to use the pipe like he seen them high wire artist do …. And that was all it took. Goniff's imagination took flight and instead of being a top rate cat burglar he was transformed into a wire walking star. He slipped his foot out on the four inch wide plank and rather than just making his way across he fairly danced. When the copper shined his torch light on him when he was about five feet from the end of his run he was still so caught up in the fantasy that he gave a cheeky grin and bowed! It wasn't until the cuffs were on and he was being hustled into the police lorry that it really sunk in what had happened.

Seems the doorman had been out having a smoke when Goniff made his way across and into the building. He'd rung up the constables and rather than track him through the building as he worked they decided to just lay and wait for him. If he gave them any trouble and they had to get rough at least on this mere skeleton of a building they wouldn't be doing any damage to some blokes fancy digs.

But a 'course he didn't give 'em any trouble, Goniff never gave nobody no trouble. In fact he did such a good job a not givin' them any trouble during his time with 'em the coppers got to likin' him. Some of 'em even stood up for him in front of the magistrate and explained to his nibs how they'd plucked him off the building after he'd done his little high wire act. How he'd been easy goin' inside and even how they'd had him out to one a the old timer's retirement teas and he'd entertained them all with his sleight of hand tricks. As far as they could find out he'd never done nothin' that included any kind a weapon ner been tied up in any caper that'd gotten any one hurt.

With the support of the local bobby's and helped along by his cheeky grin and likeable manner the judge decided someone his age could 'rehabilitate' hisself and he 'invited' him to leave the country. He could go to Australia the man said, or Canada. Goniff didn't think he'd take to the heat and flat vastness of the outback, he'd seen a picture show once and they run a news reel about a sheep station that was set up out in all that nothingness… Just didn't seem like a place he'd want to be stuck in, besides, those kangaroo things they had down there just weren't natural! So he picked Canada. They shoved him on a boat and with the money his Mum pushed in his hand he set off.

Aw, it was alright he 'sposed, for some. The cities were compact and clean. There was work enough, respectable work, and since he didn't come with a record it was easy enough to get a job. But for him it just seemed too, … too farmish. The edge of the cities faded right away into rolling countryside. And his one experience with living in the 'country' had started because Bertie was gonna die and ended with that damn vicar. So even though there were stars enough overhead to fill a hundred fantasies Goniff started moving, looking in one city after another for a place that felt right and comfortable.

He finally slipped across the border into America and stayed a while in Chicago. It was easy to pick up money. Just one pass down a crowded street and he was set for the week. But it still didn't feel right so he kept on traveling. He finally found what he was looking for in the skyscrapers of New York. Goniff was entranced by the crowds and the lights and the bustle. There were neighborhoods where to walk across a boulevard was like wanderin' into a whole different country. He was sure this was just the place for him, … so sure he slipped back across the border and arranged to come in all legal and proper so he could stay. He was so sure that he got hisself a job and a little flat and sent for his Mum to come over to join him. So sure that, for a while anyway, he was satisfied with his little clerk's wages and that tiny little flat that was just big enough for him and his Mum. So sure that he managed to keep his nose clean long enough to get his papers and make hisself a real American.

But after a while, well, his fingers just seemed to itch to perform their magic again. He remembered how he'd entertained the coppers and tried to work up a little act to do on the street corners. He was good at it and it was fun and he was making a bit more than clerks pay in the coins the crowd dropped into his box as he told his jokes and did his tricks. When the crowds got big enough though they drew the attention of the local sharks and they'd hit him up for their share of his takings. He turned over what they asked, just like he'd always done. When they wanted more, he give 'em more… when they wanted a cut a what his Mum made at her newsstand though he drew the line.

Goniff made a deal with them. He'd go to workin' full time for them and give 'em whatever they asked if they'd just stay clear a his Mum. They scoffed at the deal at first, until he took the big man's wallet, keys and watch, even the ring off his finger without him knowin' more than that he'd just shaken hands with a street performer. He told his Mum he'd got an offer to work with a traveling show and helped arrange for his aunt Molly to come over to live so Mum wouldn't be there all on her own, and as soon as they was settled in all cozy he took off.

He worked crowds mostly, at first. And if New York didn't have anything else, it had crowds. The theater district was the best. The blokes wallets were full and the birds tricked out in their finest jewelry. Then he'd let it drop about his second story skills and after another little demonstration he found hisself working in the fanciest buildings in the city. A 'course he rarely used the main entrances, no doorman needed to pull a heavy glass door open for him. Windows, skylights, air vents… those were the gateways he used to reach his prizes.

New York was rich and the society toffs gathered there just like they done in London. He worked through their flats and apartments at the direction of his handlers. And just like London, he give up most a what he took. But not all. Goniff liked small sparkly things and some of the jewelry he took just sort of stuck to his fingers. He had a pouch that he kept hidden on him and if a piece caught his eye he could slip it in with no one the wiser, just like he could slip a watch off a mark's wrist or a wallet out of his pocket and go whistling on his way with no one knowin'. Later when he was alone some times he'd take a piece or two out and dream over it a while. His little stash was growing and he knew it held enough that he might even be able to use it to get away on his own…. But he didn't really want to part with any of his baubles.

Just like no one who does a dangerous job for a living gets away without any kind a injury, no one who works outside the rules of society gets through to the end of their career without being caught, at least once. Goniff weren't no different. He was good, and he'd learned his lesson and now he kept his wits about him when he worked so it took some time but eventually he got hisself picked up. Unfortunately some of the pieces he'd slipped into his little pouch were high class and one of a kind and could be traced back to dozens of jobs all along the east coast. He couldn't claim that it was just his first time doin' a little burgling to make some money in tough times, and his cheeky grin didn't go over well with the judge that sat staring down at him from the bench. He got his conviction and even though, just like back in England he'd never done nothin' violent, because those little baubles come from all over, because he crossed state lines to get some of 'em, he earned hisself a stay in a federal lock up instead a one a the local joints.

He had to move quick in stir and hook up with a bloke that'd protect him and not take advantage. He found a fella who was certainly big enough for the protection part, but he wasn't so sure about the rest so when Garrison showed up and the prison warden marked him out as one a the best pick pockets he'd come across, when the officer made his pitch, he was more than willing to go with him… And Blimey! Talk about protection. The whole bloody Army there to watch his back? And a parole waitin' for him after the job! What could be better than that?! But fidgeting there on his stool in the basement of the café, faced with the likes a Wheeler and watchin' German jack boots march past the window that sat up high in the wall, losin' what little good sense he had and mouthin' off to the bully like he done, even though it was over that dishy little skirt…and already havin' to fight a desire to go outside when it got dark to see if there were stars, … Goniff begun to wonder if being locked up hadn't done somethin' seriously permanent to the inside a his head.


	7. Chapter 7

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Garrison watched the activity out on the street through the window. DuChamps continued absence was beginning to worry him. The contact was to have cased the printing plant they were to hit and be there with the details when they landed. The set up had been for them to pick up what they needed on the way in, hit the plant and be gone in time to meet up with the squad again for their trip out. Something had to have gone wrong. His mind turned over the possibilities again… He had contingency plans in the works before they'd ever left the airfield in England and it wouldn't be the first time he'd had to rework a plan from the ground up once he got on the scene. He knew he could handle himself and he knew he could work with the underground, but he had five unknown factors in the men waiting down in the basement. He surveyed the street again then turned for the cellar. He better get down there and check on them. All he needed was for Wheeler or one of the others to panic and make a break for it.

When DuChamps finally showed up there was a problem, one of the bigger ones. The German's were moving the plates they wanted. The men were all for turning back, and he could hardly blame them, but the mission was to switch the plates not just hit that printing plant. He had to come up with a way to snatch them on the run. The light that came into the con man's eye when he pitched his idea confirmed his opinion that the man was in it for the thrill of the work as well as the parole. Keep him interested and he had him hooked. The rest just followed along, they really didn't have any other choice.

Collecting the equipment they needed hadn't been much of a problem. The men he'd chosen were tops in their craft, but Garrison knew waiting was never easy and he didn't want to give the men too much time to think about what could go wrong. They were on the road ready to block the path the column would take with only a few minutes to spare. When Chief signaled from the top of the hill they'd fired up their vehicles and pulled onto the road, turning across it just as the line of trucks came into view. 'First big test,' he thought as he climbed out and headed for the trucks. 'All they have to do is pull out and leave me stranded.'

It had taken time for his little proposal to take hold. There were still more who scoffed at it than believed it could work. The only reason it had been given a chance was that he'd agreed to head up the outfit until they proved themselves valuable. He hadn't minded taking the risk. And it was a risk…, a big one. Whoever went out with these guys stood a good chance of getting caught and shot as a spy, and an even bigger one of getting his throat slit or a bullet in the back of his head from the men themselves. Even though he had his eyes on the German officer, even while he was trying to explain to the irate man why his progress had just been blocked, he had his ears on the untested group behind him. When the German general came forward and started his little tirade and he still hadn't heard the engines turn over he started to breathe again. Looked like the bunch was going to stick around after all…. 'Probably just waiting around to watch me get shot!'

Garrison got the reaction he was depending on. As soon as the general knew the SS was involved his resistance crumbled. When he ordered Casino and Chief down off the truck and started them on the task of searching through the column he finally let himself relax, a little. What they needed now was enough luck to find what they were after… and time enough for Casino to overcome whatever security measures the Germans had taken to protect the plates and switch them with the coded ones he'd carried from England. Garrison kept an eye on the men as they search the column. When Chief finally pulled out of the tank and gave the signal he took a deep breath and congratulated himself that he'd made the right choice. Now all they had to do was stall the column long enough for the safecracker, Casino, to work his magic. But it had taken longer than he expected for them to turn the hiding place. He stood thinking for a moment when they reached the end of the line of men. Turning he ordered the soldiers to open the first button on their uniforms and extend their arms. He and Goniff would just have to make another pass down the line and hope it bought them enough time.

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Actor was a prop, a set piece, dressing to bring their con to life. All he had to do was sit in the car and smoke while Garrison directed events as they played out on the dusty section of road they'd chosen for their stage. He wasn't used to playing so passive a part but though it was unaccustomed he used the time to his advantage by studying the man that led them. He found himself evaluating the Army officer's abilities as a confidence man. The man was calm, his German was impeccable. He carried the uniform well, almost as if he were born to it, and he showed the proper deference to the general officer he was faced with. It was easy to believe that he was merely caught in an uncomfortable position between the general and the desires of their fictitious field marshal. Actor sat back and inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs. It was surprising but Garrison seemed to be a natural at this. He was certainly familiar with the ruse they were using. The Englishman, Goniff, was right. He might have made a great con man… He might still if Actor's could just find a way to concentrate his persuasive abilities on him.

Casino strained to hear the tumblers fall into place. The box the Indian found had three pad locks protecting it and it had taken him a little longer to get through them than he expected. Then he was faced with the dial. With the box sitting flat like it was the tumblers didn't make much noise and he'd missed on the first pass and was working his way through again. Ten minutes Garrison said, and it had taken them most of that to find the damn thing…. This was going to be close.

Wheeler sat watching the lieutenant and that little English creep shove back sleeves and peer at the backs a the soldiers necks. He didn't pay any attention to the other two, they weren't gonna get those damn plates! What they were gonna get was killed… He toyed with the idea of just pulling out and leaving but everyone a those soldiers in that line had a piece hangin' off his belt, and there was a motorcycle…, the guy in the sidecar had a machine gun. He was stuck. If he took off now all he'd get was shot full a holes. And it was playing out just like he thought. The two on the ground were at the end of the line again and that little general was goin' up in flames. As soon as he saw the Indian runnin' for the front of the column he fired up the engine. He wanted to be ready to beat it.

There wasn't anything left to do. They'd reached the top of the line again without finding their 'dumb john.' When the general ordered them off the road and out of his way they had to head back to the cars. Garrison hoped the two men searching the column had learned enough German to recognize the orders that were being shouted up and down the line of trucks. He settled in behind the wheel and waited, watching as Chief and Casino double timed their way back to the vehicles they'd commandeered. The two came to a halt next to his car and did a fair imitation of coming to attention.

"You make the switch?"

"Huh uh. I didn't have enough time."

Fighting the impulse to swear Garrison jerked his chin towards to other vehicle. "Get back with Wheeler."

"Five more minutes, that's all we needed!"

Goniff was right. Just a few extra minutes and they would have been able to complete the job. Craig mentally kicked himself for making the decision to bypass the soldier they'd come across in the line-up who actually had scratches on his neck. The time it took for the man to stammer out his explanation probably would have bought them the time they needed. If he'd been a 'great con man' he never would've let that little opportunity slip by.

"It's going to be tough to find another con that will work on this bunch."

Garrison turned and watched the line of trucks pull past. "We'll find one."

g

Garrison dropped them at the café with orders to 'stay put' then took off with the Frenchman to hit his contacts up for information on the column. If the men took off he'd have to find a way to finish the job on his own but by the way Casino had groused and grumbled all the way back into town he was pretty sure the safe cracker wouldn't be going anywhere. If he read him right his ego wouldn't let him leave until he'd mastered that little locked box that was hidden in the floor of that tank.

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"Big man! Get through any lock in nuthin' flat!" Wheeler threw the insult across the cellar at Casino. "Well big man, how come that little cash box tripped you up?"

"That 'little cash box' had _four_ locks on it wise guy!" He cocked an eyebrow in the blowhard's direction. "You wanna try it next time?" Casino pushed to his feet and started towards Wheeler. Blowing that job had gotten to him, he wasn't used to failure. Takin' Wheeler's head off for him was just the kinda thing to take the edge off….

Wheeler bellied up to the safecracker. "I'd have just as good a chance at breakin' into that thing as you…"

"Oh sure! Second string dummy like you'd have no chance at all. You probably couldn't get into that thing if I handed you the keys!"

Chief shot a worried look at the cellar window then at Actor. The con man heaved a sigh as he got to his feet. Two long strides and he was standing between the two. "Quiet both of you! If you're heard out on the street no one will get a chance at that box."

Wheeler's angry stare changed immediately to disbelief as his gaze shifted to the European confidence man. "Are you outta your mind?!" But the look on the con man's face was reflected in the safecracker's. "You guys aren't crazy enough to make a play for that thing again?!"

"I suggest, Wheeler, that if we can get our hands on those plates they would be the perfect thing to use to make new contacts, even here."

"You're crazy! We put the snatch on those things and every Kraut within a hundred miles is gonna be out after blood. Ours!"

"The job is to switch the plates Wheeler, not just steal them. If we do our jobs properly the Germans won't even know they are missing."

"Yeah but we still have to get past that damn Army warden."

"That might not be as difficult as it may seem."

"What? You got something?"

"Perhaps." Their attention was focused on him, the fight forgotten. Actor settled into the chair at the table and told them what he'd seen.

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Back at the mansion Actor's curiosity had gotten the better of him. He wanted to know more about the man the Army had chosen to lead them and even at his most charming he'd failed to get the information from the man himself so he'd turned to Goniff and together they'd hatched a scheme to get what he wanted. He provided the distraction and the little pick pocket's talents did the rest. Two evenings before they found themselves on the plane to France Actor sat apparently reading the local paper, what he was actually doing was studying Garrison's dossier. It didn't hold the answers to all of his questions but it gave him at least a little background on the man. The next morning he took the men through their language lessons as usual, wrapping them up just a little early, and then managed to talk the guard into taking him downstairs for his meeting with the lieutenant before he was sent for, for a change. He'd been extremely cooperative with this particular guard and had earned his trust. A few moments after they arrived in the hall outside Garrison's office he suggested the man go for coffee as he usually did while he and the lieutenant had their meeting. A reminder that there was a soldier stationed at the end of each of the hallways and every one of the doors leading out of the mansion was all it took to convince the young guard that there was no chance of him making a break for freedom.

Actor waited a few moments to make sure his young guard hadn't had second thoughts before he made his move. All he was going to do was slip the folder back in the file cabinet where Goniff said he'd found it and then go back to his seat outside in the hall to wait for the daily meeting he had with the lieutenant. He stood a moment outside the door and listened. It was the routine that while they were upstairs engaged in the language lessons Garrison was out on the grounds seeing to his own conditioning. Though he very often observed them while they made their way around the obstacle course, worked out on the firing range, or practiced their hand-to-hand skills he did not participate in their training, leaving that to Sergeant Major Rawlins. It was silent on the other side of the door just as the con man had expected.

Actor gently turned the knob and carefully opened the door. It may have been silent behind the door but the room wasn't empty. Before he could pull the door shut again he'd been caught as Rawlins glanced up with a scowl.

"What do you think you're doing in 'ere, then? You were never sent for!"

"Oh. I am very sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. I can come back at another time."

The Sergeant Major turned and faced the sophisticated criminal, shielding his commander from view as he slipped his shirt back over his head.

"That'll be all Sergeant Major."

"Sir?" Gil almost made the mistake of starting an argument in front of the group's confidence man but a sharp look from the lieutenant caused the words to die on his lips.

"I said, that will be all Sergeant Major Rawlins." Garrison watched the disapproving glance the British NCO gave him turn to distrust as he turned to considered the convict standing in the doorway and then melt into resignation. He continued buttoning his shirt as the non-com gathered his supplies. "… And, thanks."

Rawlins studied his CO a moment longer before turning on his heel and marching to the door. With a pointed look at the con man he declared. "I'll be right outside, sir."

"What is it Actor?…." Garrison settled himself behind the desk and waited.

"I merely thought I'd surprise you by being early for our meeting for a change…" Actor pulled the chair out and took a seat. He had the files on all the men in his hand as usual along with the one on Garrison. Leaning forward he slid them onto a stack of files that were already on the young officer's desk, deftly sliding the man's own file into the bottom of the stack. Relaxing back into the chair he waited for the session to start.

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"Sergeant Major Rawlins was applying some sort of dressing or support to Lieutenant Garrison's back or ribs, I am sure of it." He glanced around at the others to see if they understood. "Even if it was only tape it means our young leader has an injury he is trying to conceal. That's why he didn't participated in our training exercises on the obstacle course, that's why he wasn't the one to demonstrate any of the techniques of hand-to-hand or do more than just observe at the jump tower."

"You mean he's damaged goods!?" Wheeler slapped his fist into his open palm as he turned away. "Beautiful! Beautiful!"

"I wouldn't get too excited Wheeler. Blimey, the Army must think he's up to the job or they'd never send the bloke out on this caper."

"Yeah?" Casino snorted. "Either that or they figure they're not losin' much if he gets himself, … _and us _killed and doesn't make it back."

"Still it means that if we do decide to part company with Lieutenant Garrison he will be less likely to follow us."

"You mean just take off and leave the bloke on his own over here?" Goniff couldn't believe he was asking that question, or that he was feeling a little sorry for the Army screw at being left to his own devices if they took off.

"Goniff, he undoubtedly has many contacts here with the underground. If we leave they will help him get safely back to England."

"_IF _we leave? You mean _**if**_ we leave him alive!" Wheeler turned to glare at the men gathered around the table. What kind of idiots was he hooked up with anyway!? The warden was damaged goods, a prime target now and after what he'd put them all through he wasn't about to let him keep breathin one minute longer than absolutely necessary.

"Oh come on! Even you can't be that stupid." Casino straighten up to face Wheeler and they were toe to toe again. "We leave that guy in the dust after we do the job and the Army might just forget all about us, figure their little experiment just didn't work. You off him and every guy in uniform packing a rifle'll be on our trail from now til doomsday!"

"He's right, man. Killin' that guy'd be just like killin' a cop."

Wheeler stared at them a moment before spinning away. Stalking into the back of the cellar, back into the shadows, he started pacing off his frustration. He hated it over here. He hated not knowin' what was goin' on… As he paced his fear turned to anger and he started planning. He could take the guy, he knew it now… The others were just a bunch a chumps, they just didn't have the guts, but once he made his move they'd fall in line.

Chief watched Wheeler pace. The guy was afraid, that made him dangerous. He studied the man a moment more before he turned back to the table. "How'd you figure on doin' it Actor?"

The men leaned together around the table and listened as the con man laid out his idea.

"I believe we should go along with Lieutenant Garrison's plans, whatever they may be."

"Blimey! You mean take the chance and go after those plates again? Whyn't we just grab the ones that bloody screw has and take off?"

Actor shrugged. "I've had time to reconsider. The plates the lieutenant carries are coded, the ones the German's have are not."

The safecracker had obviously come to the same conclusion and it didn't take the other two long to pick up on his idea… The German plates were more valuable, the money from them wouldn't be able to be traced. The bills from Garrison's plates would be traceable, if you knew what to look for…, and the authorities would know exactly what to look for. If they were going to use the plates to get in tight with the network of European criminals so they could make their way on the continent they'd never pull it off using plates that would set the Feds or their European counterparts on the trail of whoever used them…. And it wasn't any different here than in the States. You didn't cross guys like that…. They might live long enough to make some money from a couple of jobs, but they'd never live long enough to spend it, not after the buyers found out…. It'd be safer to take their chances with the Germans.

Casino glanced over his shoulder at Wheeler. "I say we go along with Wheeler's plans too."

"What'd you mean?"

"He's gonna try and take Garrison. I say let him." The safecracker shrugged. "If he can manage it, swell. We get Garrison's plates, we get rid of him _**and**_ Wheeler…."

Actor nodded. "The resistance reports the tragic loss and we make ourselves heroes by completing the mission." And since they didn't know the coordinates of the meeting, or the code words that would get them off the continent and back to England through Garrison's military contacts they would have to make their way back using civilians, people who would have no idea they needed to be guarded, their every move carefully watched. Yes, it would be much easier that way. And if they decided to take a chance and return to the mansion it would be simple enough to convince the authorities that they'd dumped the German plates along the route back for fear of being caught with them. Still the thought of standing by while another was killed was more than a little unnerving. The short time he'd spent sitting next to the body of the driver of the car they'd appropriated had been almost more than he could endure … He'd never done anything violent in his career…

Goniff's stomach turned at the thought of bein' there when it happened, of watching while Wheeler and the Army screw fought it out. He always done his best to be someplace else when stuff like that went down.

Casino glanced at the Limey where he sat chewing on his fingers then back at Wheeler. Hey, that was life, right? One a those guys had to go, both would be better, but one of 'em had a chance a makin' it out alive, not a very good one but… That was as fair as life got, right?

He'd never been part of a double cross… Chief wasn't any stranger to violence but it had been the face to face kind. A fight started a guy pulled a knife and you went after him. That's how it had been for him up to now, that's how he'd stayed alive…because he was good at that kind of a fight. Chief picked up the wine bottle that sat on the table and took a hit. The stuff that little English sergeant had tried to show them was different. Plannin' out who stood where and who took the first shot… Practicin' how to kill long distance with those fancy rifles and scopes. He could do it, Rawlins said he was a natural, said he had a 'steady hand and eyes like a snake'….


	8. Chapter 8

_c_

He stood still, barely breathing, not even blinking… that's what unnerved them, that unblinking stare. Chief waited for his opponent to make his move, he was quick but he was lightly built and he'd learned that if he let the other guy make the first move he could usually turn it against him. Martinez circled to his left… he always did that and when he got almost where the sun was at his back he'd make his move… he always did that too. He could hear the men shouting to one another, laying odds, taking bets…even the guards were in on it. The warden was too, his office overlooked this part of the yard.

Martinez started to slow down, then he took in a deep breath. Chief heard it and was ready when the man launched himself at him. They'd taken the weapon he made from him after the last fight and there hadn't been enough time to make another one. Chief dropped back, turning away so the shiv Martinez thrust at him missed his chest and just left a stinging graze on his arm. He grabbed the man's shirt in his hands and as he fell he curled his back and brought his feet up levering his opponent over his head to sprawl on his back in the middle of the prison's kitchen garden. Using his momentum Chief rolled up onto his feet, snatching one of the wooden stakes out of the ground on his way up. By the time Martinez was on his feet he was ready for him.

The older con glanced at the wooden stake the kid held in his hand and laughed. This was going to be a piece of cake. He had this guy by thirty, forty pounds and at least six inches. His reach was longer, he had more experience and he had a metal shiv not some crumbling garden stake. He started circling to his left and smirked as the kid turned, following his move… He'd get him turned so he was facing the sun before he made his move. He'd never see him coming… they never did. In a couple a moves he'd be King of the yard. He'd have a cell all to himself stocked with cigarettes and booze and the best chow in the place just like the warden promised. It was just a matter of time.

Chief waited, they were almost in position. Martinez never held it together until he had the sun directly at his back, he was too nervous. And he always dropped into a crouch, then took a deep breath before he launched his attack. You could put money down on it and Chief could hear the men doing just that. Chief was a smart fighter but the betting was going against him… he'd been the yard champion for too long now and he'd had eight fights in less than two weeks. It was just a matter of time.

Martinez dropped and Chief heard the air whistle as he took his breath and then shoved off. He waited until the man was almost on top of him before he dropped to his knees. The shiv sailed past his ear and momentum carried it's owner right onto Chief's up raised stake. He felt it go home and stared up into the look of surprise in the other man's eyes. Dropping his arm he let Martinez roll onto his back on the ground and he continued to stare at him, not even blinking.

Shrill whistles broke the crowd up and rough hands grabbed him and turned him out of the bright sunlight of the yard into the dim light of the cell block. He'd be in solitary for a couple of days, maybe a week… that's the way it usually worked. If he was lucky there'd be something in the cell to make into a weapon, if not, like today, he'd have to find something in the yard. The guard jerked him to a halt and the other one stepped forward to unlock the solid metal door. As the door swung open Chief's heart dropped. The cell was bare, not even a mattress on the floor and he had no doubt his meals, if he got anything, would be delivered in one of those heavy paper boxes.

The door slammed shut and he heard the key grate in the lock. Chief leaned back against the door and slid down to sit on the bare floor. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. Martinez face materialized for him…. He'd been alive when the guards pulled him out of the yard. Still looking at him with that surprised expression on his face, still holding the stake that was buried deep in his gut.

Didn't matter if the guy died, Chief knew he'd be back out in the yard soon enough. There was big money to be made on the fights. The warden's invited guests paid top dollar to see one man try and kill another. They'd throw another opponent against him, and another one, and another until he finally lost and they had a new champion…. It was what they did here. It was the way the game was played. The only way out was through the cemetery.

"Get on your feet Indian, the warden wants to see you."

The shouted order was followed by two sharp raps on the metal door he was leaning against. Chief pushed up onto his feet and turned to face the door as it opened. It was too soon! They hadn't even given him enough time for the sweat to dry. He'd never survive another fight.

"What about?"

"How should I know!? Some Army joker showed up with your file in his hands and you got sent for." He threw a towel at the con's face and reached in and grabbed a handful of his shirt pulling him out into the hall. "This guy must be some kinda VIP or somethin'. I got orders to see to it you're all cleaned up nice and pretty for him."

Chief started off down the hall towards the showers. He'd heard of men being traded, transferred to other prisons where the same kinds of fights went on… but the Army? As soon as they shoved through the swinging doors he started stripping out of his things. No matter what the reason getting a chance at the showers was a gift. Usually the inmates only got a shot at them every seven to ten days and then they were herded in in batches of up to twenty. He turned the valve on full blast and gasped as the frigid water seemed to pierce his flesh with icy needles. There was only one bar of soap, gray and gritty with the grime of other bodies but at least he didn't have to struggle to get his hands on it this time. He scrubbed it over his chest and then ran it over his arms and legs, taking pains to clean the shallow cut on his arm before scrubbing it through his hair. It made a poor lather but it cut through the dirt and the sharp tang of carbolic was better than the stale smell of sweat. He stepped back into the freezing torrent, sluicing the harsh soap off his skin before he turned the water off and reached for the rough towel.

Keeping his back to the guard Chief toweled the water off his body. Wrapping the towel around his waist he turned to find the screw staring at him and he stood, glaring back at him, that same lidless stare, daring him to make a comment or make a move…. That's how this all got started. He hadn't been in the place more than three weeks before one of the inmates made a move on him and even though he was younger, smaller, he'd managed to defend himself. At first he made good betting. To look at him anyone would think he never have a chance….until they saw him fight. He'd gone from a long shot to even money, now the warden was probably having trouble finding a man willing to bet against him. That's why the number of fights had picked up, the number of days between them had dropped… and now he was being sent out there without any kind of a weapon.

"Alright! Get a move on, pretty boy."

The guard leaned against the door to the dressing room and motioned him through with the club he held in his hand. Even with the kosh he stepped back as Chief walked past and the young man saw the glint of fear in his eyes. He stepped across to the racks of clothes that lined the far wall. Shorts, and shirts and pants lay folded in stacks, socks were rolled together and tossed in a laundry bag. If you were lucky the stuff you pulled off the shelves fit, if you weren't…well at least you weren't naked. This was a gift too, being in here on his own meant he could take a minute and find the stuff that would fit him, not just take whatever was left. He dressed quickly and sat down on the bench to lace up his boots. That was the only thing that you kept through the shower ritual, if you were lucky. He'd come from the cell with them on but usually the inmates left their boots or shoes in the cells and hoped they were still there when they got back. Living in solitary since making his debut as a fighter his usually were. But they could still be taken out in the yard, if someone was foolish enough to try it.

He stood up when he was dressed. There were no combs so he just pulled his fingers through his wet hair smoothing it back off his face. There were no razors either but it didn't matter, his heritage, if not his age, left him beardless. Chief stepped over to the door and waited for the guard to signal the man on the other side to unlock it and let them through. He didn't even wonder what was waiting for him in the warden's office. Whatever it was it didn't matter. He'd already decided his luck had run out, he'd already accepted the fact that he was going to die…..

The door opened on the end of an argument…

"I'm sure there's been some sort of a mistake, Lieutenant. This can't possibly be the man you're looking for."

"And I'm just as certain he's exactly the one I'm after." The Army officer looked up as the door opened and the guard moved the prisoner through. He glanced at the file he held in his hand, he'd tracked this one down through a prison transfer. Tossing the file on the table so the young man could see it he asked. "That you?"

Chief looked down at the mug shots that were clipped to the top of the file, then back up at the military screw. "Yeah. What of it?"

The Army officer shared a glance between the warden and the guard and jerked his chin towards the door. As soon as the men started moving he settled his hip against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well if it is, I've got a proposition for you."

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Steps in the passageway outside the door jerked Chief's attention back to the present. He set the wine bottle down on the keg and taking the stairs two at a time made it to the top landing in time to challenge Garrison with his knife as he came through the door. The lieutenant took little notice, brushing past as he made his way down the stairs to the cellar.

"Alright, everything's set. Come over here and I'll show you what you've got to do."

That's all it took to set Wheeler off. He brought his challenge right to the screw, pushing for the job to be abandoned, calling for all of them to follow him and take off. They all took the middle ground, staying neutral til they saw how the power was going to shift. Garrison didn't fall for any of it. He stood toe to toe with Wheeler and calmly told him he couldn't leave and he wouldn't let him go.

Chief took another hit off the wine bottle he had in his hand and decided the safecracker was right. One, or better yet, both of these guys had to go. Wheeler was right too. It was after eight, they didn't have much time. He hit the switch on the knife and shot the tip into the top of the wine barrel that sat next to Wheeler. If Actor was right and there was enough wrong with the lieutenant that Wheeler came out on top they could always kill him and claim they'd done it in revenge of the screw's death. If it was Wheeler that got it…, he was a big enough brawler, he'd might do enough damage that it would be easier for them to get away from their new warden. Either way, the knife would hurry things along.

Craig watched Wheeler fondle the knife, then shot a glance at the cons scattered around the room. So this was it. Jergens warned him there would probably be a showdown, some sort of test, but he'd hoped they'd be worried enough about the mission and getting out alive that it wouldn't come until they were on the way back. Appealing to the men got him nowhere so he concentrated on his attacker and hoped he would only have to face them one at a time. He backed away as the man advanced on him, keeping his eyes locked on his opponent's face as he slowly stripped the tunic off to make it easier to move. Wheeler was too sure of himself, concentrating on baiting him he made the mistake of letting him get set.

Wheeler watched as his quarry backed away from him. The knife felt good in his hand. He'd leaned forward and sliced the ribbon that decorated the screw's uniform, laughing when all the guy could come up with was to feed him some lame line about him being his only friend. Right! He watched as he slid out of the heavy jacket he wore…. That was good too. Get all that padding out of the way so the knife'll go in real easy. And he felt a thrill when he caught sight of the bandage through that nice white shirt. It ran down the guys right side along his ribs, disappearing under his belt… and the warden was right handed too. Beautiful…

They were back in the middle of the room again, just waiting to see who'd make the first moved. Garrison feinted with his left, using the jacket he'd wrapped around his arm to knock the knife from Wheeler's grip. His right hand shot out and before the blowhard could move he had him by the neck, his fingers curling in on either side of his throat. The get away driver's face flushed red immediately and then started to turn dusky as he was deprived of oxygen. His knees folded and Garrison held him up by that one hand, turning him this way and that for they others to see.

"Is that enough? Is that what you wanted to see, or is there more?" The men had taunted him when Wheeler had the knife but they were silent, waiting to see what he'd do next. Even Chief, the wine had loosened his tongue just moments ago but it seemed to fail him now. Craig pushed Wheeler away, shoving him off into a corner, and bent down to retrieve the knife. Alright! If that's what they needed, he'd explain it too them, in their own language. As he glared around the room he let an image of what he'd do to them if they crossed him again form in his mind. It was so clear, so real they couldn't help but see it too. And then he showed them he could back that threat up. When he turned and whipped his hand forward and let the knife fly it buried itself in the barrel a fraction of an inch from Chief's hands. He ordered them into middle of the room so he could lay out the new plan but they still didn't move. The only thing that broke their trance was Duchamps staggering through the door at the top of the stairs. And as soon as the man opened his mouth the plans went out the window.


	9. Chapter 9

ggg

They'd gone over it and over it, but he took them through it one more time as they leaned against the ambulance and watched the activity in the station. The plates were still in the tank, Casino would go after them during a blackout that Goniff would create when he shorted the wires to the siren and caused it to go off. Garrison figured they'd have less than ten minutes if they were lucky before someone got through to the station and told them it was a false alarm. Actor would convince the soldiers left guarding the tank to get to the shelters leaving the way clear for the safecracker to make his attempt. Chief would set fire to the money the Germans had loaded on one of the box cars, destroying the stockpile of bills so they'd have to use the coded plates and providing them with a diversion that would allow them to get away. But it didn't go exactly as planned.

g

Wheeler watched the action from the front seat of the ambulance. The place had turned into a ghost town as soon as the sirens sounded. He saw the know-it-all con man order the guards off the tank and watched as that loud mouth safecracker climbed in so he could go to work on the lock box. He didn't know where Garrison was but he took a chance that he'd be concentrating on the tank as he slipped out of the truck and headed for the car full of money. He still had a chance of getting the others to fall into line. Wave enough money under their noses and they'd follow him alright. Wheeler waited in the shadows for Duchamps to march away from the car as he play acted being one of the guards. Sliding the door aside he stepped inside, pulling it closed behind him. There were too many crates to count and he could smell the money.

Chief had been busy sloshing gas over the crates and getting ready to set it alight. He hadn't let himself think about what the crates contained or what it could get him. Garrison had ordered it destroyed and he'd earned the right to have his orders followed but when Wheeler showed up it shook his resolve to do what he was told. When the get away driver laid the lid back off one of the crates and he got a look at all that money he let out a low whistle but when the man wanted him to go along with him and haul four of the crates out all he could think of was the look on Garrison's face down in that cellar, and how accurately he'd thrown that knife. He reached into the crate and grabbed up a handful of bills, stuffing them inside his shirt and advised the group's hot car specialist to do the same. Holding the rag they'd tied around his head in the candle's flame he set it burning then tossed it over the first row of boxes. Wheeler went crazy as soon as the gas caught. As flames erupted around them he frantically tried to beat them back enough to recover one of the crates. When Chief tried to pull him out of the burning car he'd turned on him. He didn't have any other choice, as soon as the man's fingers curled around the butt of his pistol Chief let the knife fly. Choking on the heavy smoke curling off the crates he pulled the door back and reeled out of the car into Duchamps arms.

Garrison watched the action on the platform. The plates had been switched he counted on that. During the run through Casino had blown up in his face when he asked him again and again how long it would take to get through those locks. Each time he worked on a lock, the safecracker said, it was faster, this was his second time through and it would only take 'a couple a three minutes.' So his task was complete, and the commotion down near the box cars would give him more than enough cover to cut his losses, round up the others and make it back to the ambulance for their get away. If the Frenchman just kept his head and turned his rifle on Chief, taking him as a prisoner he could even pull them out of the fire with a bluff. But Duchamps wasn't used to making split second decisions, he was.

A shouted order caused him to freeze. The crates of counterfeit bills were finally burning, it looked like the tank Major had the locked box the plates were in but he and his men had spotted him as he staggered out of the burning car. Chief could just make Garrison out as he stood watching them from his place up on the catwalk. Mission accomplished, he thought… and he and Duchamps were the perfect diversion, just what the others needed to make their get away. He'd bought himself a little more time and this place didn't look anything like the yard back at the prison. It was going to be a bullet instead of a shiv but he was still going to die. Chief turned and put his hands up, that's when the shots rang out and all Hell broke lose.

Craig sprayed the tank Major and his men with machine gun fire, stayed on the catwalk just long enough to see Chief and Duchamps dive for cover, then turned his attention to the lights, plunging the station into darkness. Ducking and scrambling down the stairs just ahead of return fire he dropped onto the lower landing, just below the level of the main platform. Actor and Goniff were under the platform down near the tank, Casino still inside…if he could just make it across the platform and get them all inside he could take them out in that. Duchamps and Chief could still make it out in the ambulance with Wheeler.

Garrison pushed up from hiding to gage his chances. He took out a soldier closing in on his position, then turned to fire on a man coming up from behind but had to duck for cover again as bullets splintered the platform in front of him. Someone was in control of the gun on the tank, pinning him down. Damn! He'd never get out of there, not without help and Duchamps was too far away. But shots rang out and he could hear them pinging off the metal of the tank. Taking his chances he sprinted across the platform in a running crouch and leapt off the edge just as Actor dropped for cover and the man in the tank returned his fire and sprayed the edge of the platform that protected them with lead. Before he could pull his feet under him and get set defend their position Goniff popped up, squeezed his eyes tight, pulled the trigger and blew the man off his perch. That was all they needed. Craig sent his men running for the tank while he provided cover. After ordering them inside he spotted Duchamps and Chief running towards them using the vehicles for cover.

"Wheeler?"

"He's not comin'."

"Chief, get in the tank!"

Once they made it out of the station the chaos they left behind covered their escape. Even the sound of a tank rolling through their streets wasn't enough for the locals to risk the slightest breach of the German's curfew order by pulling the curtains back to see who was passing and which way they were going… they got away clean.

ggg

Garrison wasn't the kind to accept losing a man, even one like Wheeler.

"You're sure he was dead?"

They watched him. It wasn't like they were used to. If you took the fall you either got yourself killed or you landed in the joint. No one came back for you. If you kept your mouth shut through the trial another job might be waiting for you when you got out… They might even try a prison break to bust you out when the heat was off if you were important enough… But no one turned back into a hail of bullets to give you a chance or thought about jumping back into the pot when it was still at full boil. This guy had done it though, and this crazy bastard was thinkin' it. All of them held their breath and waited for the Indian's answer, praying it was the right one and that he could sell the Warden on it.

"He was dead."

Chief said it with such bleak finality that Craig knew it had to be the truth. He'd find out exactly what had happened later when they were safely back in England. Turning he surveyed the men. If they'd been regular Army they'd be mourning the loss of a member of their squad…but they weren't soldiers. They were convicts and they lived by a different set of rules. He'd still be writing a letter back to the states, to the prison where he'd found and rejected Wheeler, and another one to the man listed in his records as next of kin… a brother left behind in another prison in another part of the country. He didn't need to waste his breath telling the men Wheeler hadn't died for nothing, that he'd give his life to further some kind of cause. They didn't care and it probably wasn't true anyway. Wheeler died for greed…

Goniff was telling him just that as he stood and took his cap off. Then the bills fluttered down around the little pick pocket and Garrison had a whole new problem on his hands. He'd actually expected them to make a play for some of the money… just not quite this much. The bankroll he took off the little cockney would have set a family of four up for a couple of years! And if the second story man had that kind of money on him it was a sure bet the others had their share too. He turned on each one and after an attempt to side track him or a staring match they'd finally given up the cash. The only real surprise was the bundle Goniff had planted on him…. He'd never felt that, never seen it coming. The guy had more talent than he'd given him credit for.

Garrison ordered the men on their way, they still had to meet up with that squad for their trip out, but he stood a moment and watched the smoke curl off the little bonfire he'd created from the counterfeit bills. They'd done the job, just like he knew they could. They'd improvised, almost from the start and fought him every step of the way, but they'd done the job. As soon as his report was filed he hoped command would finally see the value in his little proposal. Even with the fighting and arguing, even with the extra cost in housing and guards to keep track of them, this group would more than earn their keep. He could prove it with just two little pieces of evidence.

Craig shouldered his rifle and turned, calling out to the group retreating so meekly….

"Casino!"

Goniff pulled up in the doorway blocking the east coast con's way out. Garrison reached them in three easy strides and put his hand out. When all he got was an guiltless stare he snapped his fingers, tapped his palm with the other hand and just stood waiting. By this time Chief and Actor had turned back to see what was delaying the others.

The way out was blocked, and the way back into the bombed out building was full of expectant Army lieutenant. The group's explosives expert held his ground as long as he could but after several moments Casino finally folded, heaved a sigh and reached into the inside pocket of his tunic. Drawing out the plates he gave the small packet wrapped in soft leather one last long look before shrugging and slapping them in Garrison's outstretched palm.

"Worth a try."

Garrison nodded as he stowed the plates back in the safety belt at his waist. When he looked up he couldn't quite keep the smile off his face. "I like the way you guys tried to divert my attention with the bills though... proves you can improvise."

Casino gave a short bark of laughter and started on his way again only to be held back by Goniff.

"Hey! You was holdin' out! Cheify here divvied up."

"Only 'cause we made him! Look, soon as the Warden here turned his back I was gonna let you all in on it…" Casino landed an almost friendly blow on the pick pocket's shoulder. "We're partners, right?

Goniff gave a half believing laugh and glanced at Actor and Chief, they weren't falling for that any more than he was. "Right you are, mate! Partners."


	10. Chapter 10

ggg

Rawlins fixed his eyes on the door of the truck as it opened, "Glad to see you made it back, sir." A report had already reached him, he knew there was one less man on the back of the truck.

"You mean surprised to see we made it back, don't you Sergeant?" Garrison returned the Sergeant Major's salute and started for the back of the truck calling over his shoulder. "So, who won the pool?" He'd already sent word through the underground. It was no surprise to the crew here at the mansion that there was one less man, no surprise which one hadn't made it back.

"Pool, sir?" His NCO flushed red to the roots of his hair. "I don't know what you mean, sir."

The Lieutenant turned and leaned against the truck, "Come now, Sergeant! You aren't going to stand there and tell me you didn't know about the pool?" It was a bit of black humor most special units engaged in… settling a bet on the odds of a group or an individual's chances of making it through an assignment alive. Even though playing out this little scenario wouldn't bring Wheeler back it would help the ones left behind deal with it. Wheeler wasn't a soldier, he wasn't even liked by the soldiers who made up the detail out here, none of the men were, but he'd gone out and he hadn't come back. That brought things a little too close to home for comfort. Making a joke out of it helped them feel like death couldn't touch them. Garrison understood that even though he knew it wasn't true.

"Well, yes, sir, I knew about it, but…" Gil watched the American officer for a moment. They hadn't worked together very long, he wasn't sure he could read him yet. He knew he'd been in North Africa. Rawlins knew he'd lost men before. The look on the Lieutenant's face was dead serious...still... He decided to take a chance. "But I'm surprised you knew about it, sir."

Garrison finally laughed, "Knew about it? I'm in it!" And as they fell in side by side and continued to the back of the locked truck he confided. "Took some talking to get Corporal Santos to let me in, but I convinced him right before we left."

The transport from the airfield had backed into the steps leading up to the manor, guards were posted on either side of the truck and pairs were spotted along the stairs with the last one stationed in the entry. The base was a strange one, set up more to keep the men housed here in, than to keep curious civilians or threats from the outside out. The house had been fitted with bars on the windows of the rooms the men would use, and the heavy antique locks supplemented with new modern ones that only operated from the outside in deference to the supposed skills of one of the inmates…ah.., members of the special team. Other modifications had been put in place that made the house and grounds feel much more like a prison than a military base and some of the men who had been assigned here had been selected because they had experience either as guards in prisons, or as peace officers, here in England or over in the States. Sergeant Major Gilbert Rawlins had neither…

Rawlins had been talked into this job because of his skills as a training instructor and success as a commando. The Yank Lieutenant waiting for him to unlock the truck had come to him while he was still convalescing and explained a little bit about the assignment, told him there was a team of 'specialists' coming from America to do a job for the military. They'd need an intense course of training to get them ready for their mission, he said, and he told him he was just the man for the job… neglecting to mention until it was too late that the 'specialists' were all criminals let loose from prisons across America.

As he reached into his pocket to retrieve the keys to unlock the tall tailgate that covered most of the back of the truck Gil looked up at his commanding officer. "Beggin' your pardon sir, but about your bet?"

"Yes, Sergeant Major."

"What number did you bet, sir, if I might ask?" The pool was a grim joke the men assigned to the base started when they learned just who the 'specialists' were and found out a little bit about the mission.

"Can't see any harm in telling you, Rawlins, since I won't pick the same number again." Craig smiled at the change in the Sergeant's complexion.. He'd gone from red faced embarrassment to slightly pale disbelief. Guess he didn't really believe this job would run longer than the one mission either, he thought. "I had Zero, Sergeant."

Gil froze with his hand half way to the lock and turned to stare at the young man standing next to him. "Zero, sir?!"

Reaching out Garrison retrieved the keys that were dangling from his British NCO's hand and started working the lock. "Well, the spot was open, and you'll have to admit I had a pretty good chance of hitting it big."

"But, … Zero, sir?" Rawlins swallowed hard and moved forward to take the keys back and finish his job. He followed the Lieutenant with his eyes as the young officer stepped back. The men had their doubts about ever seeing this group again… At least not all of them, that's how the betting got started. But for the Lieutenant to be the one to buy the spot that turned on none of them getting back… And to stand there and make a joke about it? "I don't believe the men will be having another pool, sir."

The Lieutenant shrugged slightly and continued to smile at him. "Might be wise, Sergeant, it'd be too hard to figure. I don't think this group is going to follow the odds."

Gil finally relaxed and smiled back, "No sir," and turned back to the forgotten lock, only to stop again and frown at the young officer standing there. "Sir? Just how were you going to collect on your bet if you'd won?!"

Garrison ignored the question and threw the canvass flap back as Rawlins let the tailgate down. He stepped back and waited for the men to jump out of the truck as each of them was released from the handcuff that secured him. He watched as they lined up and waited for the Sergeant Major to secure them to the chain for their trip inside. After following the group up the steps into the mansion Craig made a detour to use the phone and another stop to talk to one of the guards before taking the stairs to the upper floor. He arrived just as Gil had ordered the men to their cots so he could attach the leg irons.

Craig moved up behind the Sergeant, laying a hand on his shoulder as he knelt in front of Actor. "That won't be necessary Sergeant Major. I don't think we need to use these any longer."

"Blimey! That's great Warden! You won't be sorry, mate."

They'd done what they had to do over there and completed the assignment. They hadn't given him any trouble on the trip back…. And he'd probably just made the biggest mistake in his career by officially volunteering to head the group up. "I hope not Goniff." but before the little burglar wasted one of his grins on him he continued. "The chains are off, for now, but the tracks stay in the floor. …. Just in case." And he turned on his heel and left them to their plotting.

g

Garrison waited outside the door and took the chains from Rawlins, stowing them in the cabinet that stood in the hall while the other man locked the door on their little group of experts.

"Did the men give you any trouble over there, sir?"

Craig shrugged. "Nothing I couldn't handle, Sergeant." Then he wandered across the wide hallway and pushed open the door to the room the guards had been using when it was their turn to keep an eye on the cons through the night. Jergens appeared at the top of the stairs just as he'd finished his inspection and stepped back out into the hall.

"This'll do just fine. Clear this room out and have the men move my things in here will you Corporal?"

"What's this, then?" There was more than just a hint of suspicion in his voice as Rawlins asked the question

"Oh I decided it would be better if I was a little closer to the action for a while…." Craig said as his mouth quirked up in a quick smile. "At least until they settle in."

Rawlins smiledto himself. He knew the Lieutenant's assignment as head of this group had been temporary, the brass leaving it up to his discretion to turn it into a permanent arrangement. And the younger man had confided his indecision to him during one of their many discussions about how the men were doing on their training and what they might do to increase the chances that they'd survive their mission. Gil had even heard him on the phone, just before they left for France, telling his commander he still didn't have an answer and that he was going to let the group's interaction in the field guide him. Seems he'd finally made up his mind. "And just how long do you expect that will take?"

"Two days ought to do it."

"And then what?" Gil rested his fists on his hips and considered his new CO, it seemed their bet was back on.

Garrison shrugged. "Then I imagine I'll have a meeting in London."

"And I suppose it will keep you over night?"

Craig smiled at his NCO, "I expect so."

Rawlins continued to study the young man for a moment. "Lieutenant Garrison I suspect you are not a very honorable man."

"You may be right Sergeant Major Rawlins." They stepped back out of the way as a group of men entered the room and watched as two of the cots were manhandled out and down the stairs. "I'm not sure I've ever been one."

g

It was late. It had been after midnight by the time the squad they met up with delivered them to the harbor, then there was the ride out to the sub, transfer to that little sardine can and the trip back to England. Once they got on shore the Warden had to do a song and dance for the brass while they cooled their heels on the truck with the guards. So it was late..., or early, depending on how you looked at things, and they were beat. They stowed what little gear they had away but instead of hitting the sack the men assembled around the table that had been moved into the room and set up where Wheeler's bed had been. There was a case along that wall now and it held glasses and cups and a bottle of brandy with just enough in it for a couple of rounds of drinks… if they shared.

Casino turned and picked four glasses up in the fingers of one hand and snatched the bottle off the shelf with the other. He slid a glass across the table to each man and sloshed a measure of brandy into his own before shoving the bottle towards Goniff. Waiting until they all had a drink in their hand he raised his in a silent toast and took a sip, watching as the others followed suit. As soon as the ritual was over he knocked the rest of his drink back and rested his elbows on the table…

"Alright. Now Wheeler's outta the picture let's get down to it." He shot a look around the table then turned on the con man. "You really think we can get away from that guy and make a go of it on our own over there Actor?"

The European con man considered the men around the table but before he could answer Chief put a cautioning hand up. There was someone just outside in the hall. After a slight grating noise the door swung open and the Lieutenant stepped in, scanned the room and settled his gaze on them as they sat at the table nursing their drinks.

"You fellas better get some sack time, you've got a big day tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!" Casino checked his watch. "It's tomorrow now."

"Which means you'd better get to it."

"What do you have in mind for us Lieutenant?" Actor interrupted before the others could get started on their arguments.

"Oh, I thought a little more time on the obstacle course." With a little live fire overhead to convince them to drop and take cover when he told them to, but he didn't mention that. "And Goniff needs some work on the firing range."

"Hey! I did pretty good over there." The little pick pocket protested. "I got that bloke on the tank didn't I?"

Garrison's mouth lifted in a quick half smile. "Yes you did Goniff, but your eyes were closed."

Casino turned on the cockney theif. "Jeeze! Your eyes were closed?!"

Goniff fidgeted in his chair a moment then looked up, "Yeah!" huffed a bit of steam on his fingers and buffed them against his shirt. "That's natural talent, that is. The rest a you lot'd need t'be lookin' at what you wanna hit... I just hit it."

Craig lifted an eyebrow as he considered them, then shook his head. "Well, you'll get a chance to test your natural talent out tomorrow." And he called over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "But you'd better get that sack time because the party starts at oh-seven-hundred."

If they'd been regular Army recruits their day would start at five, but they weren't regular Army. The prison day started between six-thirty and seven and he didn't really care if they kept to that later schedule, it would give him time to get some work done before he had to worry about keeping track of them. And he would probably let them slide into seven-thirty, or eight tomorrow because along with that live fire drill they'd be practicing hitting their targets on the run through the course too, not just playing fast draw on the firing line. He wanted them sharp for that. Garrison pulled the door closed behind him and stood listening for a moment before moving across the hall.

Casino, Goniff and Chief all caught it...the Warden hadn't turned the key in the lock! They were up from the table and made their way silently across the room but they left it to their cat burglar to get the door open, that was his specialty. He carefully turned the knob, and with his eye already pressed to the crack, pulled the door open so he could see out. Goniff watched Garrison's back as he moved to the door up the hall and across from theirs. But he rocked back on his heels, colliding with the safecracker, with the man turned and gavehim a little wave before going in and closing his door.

"What?"

"Blimey! He's moved his digs up here......."


End file.
